


How [not] To Catch A Thief

by Sailing the Malky Way (Fan_by_Proxy)



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Cameos, Conversations about stalking, Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, Late Night Conversations, Mental Anguish, Nights in the Warrens, Nossie Solidarity, One-Sided Attraction, Optimism, Psychological Trauma, Surviving that one mission to get to the Warrens, Theft, Transformation, When Nosferatu Get Sick of BS, slight body horror, some light arson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Sailing%20the%20Malky%20Way
Summary: Fledgling Vinny is several things: a Nosferatu, a fashion connoisseur (the tackier, the better, and if some Morticia Addams aesthete gets involved, even better), sassy, and a genuine delight to be around. She is NOT, however, a fan of the night's hierarchy or the assumption that she has nothing better to do than anything everyone older asks of her. This includes hunting down a snuff tape for the Baron of Hollywood...fortunately for Vinny, she's got friends in low places.[And eventually, Isaac gets robbed for his bad manners]
Relationships: Original Nosferatu Character(s) (Vampire: The Masquerade) & Bertram Tung, Original Nosferatu Character(s) (Vampire: The Masquerade) & Cab Driver, Original Nosferatu Character(s) (Vampire: The Masquerade) & Mitnick
Comments: 113
Kudos: 22





	1. Fetch Quest? I Hardly Know'er!

**Author's Note:**

> I know VTM:B is early 2000s, but I barely remember what it was like then so just take this setting and move it forward like 15-20 years. But feel free to keep your terrible lower back tattoos and unironic love for Brittney Spears, it's welcome here.

“I like dealing face-to-face, so kindly lift that veil, Fledgling.” Isaac said pompously, tapping his big toe inside his shoe in subtle irritation when the request was not _immediately_ followed. The new blood these days were audaciously rude, but in mostly incredibly boring ways; the absolute lack of _je ne sais quois_ the lot of them came into un-life with was just a symptom of the disease that was killing the entertainment business.

“Call me Vinny; if you’re going to be the one sending me on another fetch quest, we may as well get to a named basis.” Vinny replied with a slightly-forced airiness. Two steps into the jewelry store and the ‘asshole’ vibe was already overwhelming. She didn’t doubt for one second that Isaac--baron or prince or lord jerk on high or whatever title he wanted to toss around--had a laundry list of things for her to do before he even pretended to be helpful. She lifted the layers of lace that hung from the wide-brimmed hat and flipped them over the crown, showing off a smile. The long nights with the new face had taught her that one of the most obnoxious things she could do was to keep smiling…apparently the other clans thought her type had no reason to smile and never expected one to last long on her face after the conversation got started. So she smiled, even as patience wore thin…because once the patience and the smile were gone, it was going to be a bad night for somebody ( _not her…_ usually).

Isaac snuck a deep and quiet sigh; he’d known Lacroix’s little Girl Friday was a Nosferatu, but no one of any taste or concern _actually_ wanted to see one this close. “Thank you--it’s nice to know at least one of Lacroix’s gofers has manners enough to behave in someone’s barony.”

Academically, Vinny knew that the anarch baron would treat anyone walking into his space like shit as long as he had at least five minutes of unlife over them…but another thing the long nights had made her acutely aware of was the special sneer that most Kindred put on when it came to the Nos, and if Isaac thought he was being _subtle_ , he was (at least partially) dead wrong. “Well I’ve been a vampire long enough to know the tit-for-tat game is strong, so let’s cut the chase so we can go on with our night, yeah?” she said cheerfully.

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Not the way I would have put it, Fledgling, but I can’t argue the point too finely. Let’s discuss this in my office.” he turned on his heel sharply, confident in his ability to handle the fledgling if she decided to try and act out. The Nosferatu were a blend of strong and fragile; as long as he kept the thick, glittery claws in check, he’d _easily_ put the fledgling on her probably-scabby ass.

“What a lovely necklace.” Vinny remarked idly as she followed the baron’s steps, casting idle eyes around the displays they passed. Apparently Isaac liked things gaudy and overpriced, but there was something to be said for the collection--it had _personality_ , tons of it, and it was miles away from the sterile white-light same-sameness of a Jared’s or Herzberg store.

Isaac paused. “Don’t think I can’t see where those bulbous eyes are wandering, missy. Don’t even _think_ about it.” he said over his shoulder. “Understood?”

“Just _admiring_ the displays, Isaac, _sheesh.”_ Her smile, starting to waver at the corners, shrank a little more. “What’s the point of displaying things if you don’t want them looked at?” she added with a careless shrug for good measure. Theft hadn’t been her reason for looking about at the start; after all, when you walk into a jewelry store, you _look_ at the shiny things. It was _natural_. But Isaac’s attitude, demeanor, overwhelming assholishness, and overuse of Brüt aftershave had cemented one very certain fact: somehow, some way, at some time…she was going to rob the absolute _shit_ out of his little jewelry store…

After Isaac shunted her back outside and locked the door behind her, Vinny counted to ten. Then she dug in her purse for her phone, and decided to try something that didn’t involve a wild goose chase for a snuff film.

“ _Bertram_ , honey-lips…are you busy right now?”

“Starting with the sweet-talk early? You must want something _real_ bad.” the Nos growled, before loosing a wet chuckle. “What’s up?” Bertram balled up another sheet of newsprint and chucked it towards the growing mountain of other rejected sketches. He’d _planned_ for a quiet night in the tanker; with everyone in lockdown and no all-clear sign given yet, and Jeanette tied up in a business way instead of a fun way, he had no _real_ plans to speak of. That didn’t mean he was looking for a plan…but Bubbles was alright, in a weird way. He’d at least hear her out.

“It’s a weird story. I’m in Hollywood right now and it’s…well it’s Hollywood, honey-lips, what can I say?” Vinny rolled her eyes, picking her way to the bus stop to sit down. It was more than a little unfair that heels could still hurt even in undeath…but they were part of the ensemble and she loved looking _good_.

“Where at in Hollywood?” He sat up, curiosity piqued.

“Like physically? At a bus stop across from this gnarly little porn shop called ‘The Sin Bin’. I just got thoroughly insulted by the local baron and the fetch-quest adventure for this stupid box continues.” she replied. “That’s really all I want to say on the phone…it’s so weird, honey-lips, I cannot even _begin_ with this level of bullshit tonight.”

“The Sin Bin, huh? …I guess you can drop buy if you’d uh…be willing to pick something up for me without judgement.” Bertram said.

“Oh I’ll pick up for you, but don’t ask me not to judge if it’s something _hilarious_.” Vinny massaged her foot for a moment before jamming it back in the shoe; the touristy-looking guy was probably too drunk to notice anything unusual about her pedicure, but it wasn’t worth the Masquerade risk.

He snorted, then wiped his nose. “You still can’t negotiate for shit, Bubbles. But I guess I’ll let it slide _this time_ …you got a pen?”

“Always, honey-lips. Whatcha need?” Vinny said as she dug around in her purse for her pen and memo book. If she had a nickel for every halfway-a-friend who asked her to head into an adult store for them, it’d be…more than two. But it was kind of a strange honor when that happened; that some people trusted her to be brazen AND discrete at the same time was kind of flattering. Plus, it’d be nice to go into the Sin Bin _not_ on a murder mission, at least in theory.

The trip from the Sin Bin to the diner-side of Santa Monica was uneventful. The cabbie gave her a hand unloading at the tanker, and Vinny gave him cash and free rein for half an hour. He was definitely odd, definitely some kind of supernatural, but they both agreed that the smell of coffee and people-watching was a good way to kill time. “I’ll meet you at the diner if this goes anywhere.” she told him.

He nodded, cash tightly gripped in his fist. “May you find some answer worth this travel.” Then he adjusted the flat cap (a gift from an earlier… _escapade_ ) and got back in the cab.

She waited until he was halfway to the diner before picking up a broken piece of concrete to chuck at the tanker for an impromptu doorbell. “Amazon delivery!” she called out. No doubt Bertram already knew she was there, had known exactly where she was from the moment she hit the outskirts of Santa Monica. But knocking was just good manners.

“You’re lucky the cabbie’s a nice, helpful guy.” Vinny said with a snort, after Bertram had edged out of the tanker, given her the ok to come in, and (with her help) shuffled the goods inside. “That was _some_ shopping list you called in, honey-lips; got an anniversary coming up or something?”

Bertram rolled his eyes. “We’re not like that. Jeanette’s just been in a _mood_ and…not really into it lately. So you know, figured I’d get some equipment to spice things up.”

She had no idea what he meant by ‘spice things up’, considering her hookup with Jeanette involved a couple of power-drills with _special_ attachments, a few ping ping paddles, and a few rubber ducks, and a baseball bat. “Huh. Well then…want a suggestion?”

“Can’t hurt.” he replied nonchalantly, having successfully fished out the assembly instructions for the combination slave-stand and gyroscope. “Hit me with it.”

“It’s kinda kinky,” Vinny started, “but just hear me out: have you tried… _cuddling_?”

The bark of laughter that exploded out of him made his throat hurt. “Are you shitting me? _Oh Bubbles,_ if that’s your idea of kink…” Bertram shook his head, then continued after he caught his breath. “…besides, we’re _not_ that kind of…ya know. We’re not a _couple-_ couple.” He floundered, trying to sound glib and indifferent; he wasn’t sure _what_ exactly he’d call what went on between him and Jeanette. Fun, exciting, obnoxious…some of his favorite memories…but they _weren’t_ a couple. At least, not in the traditional sense, whatever that’d be for vampires like them. After all, Jeanette wasn’t the kind of girl to let herself get collared and he…well being Nos complicated social things more than a little.

“Look, I’m just _saying,_ ” Vinny persisted, “even when you’re not doing the monogamy thing, people like being cuddled. _Especially_ when they’re stressing out…and considering Jeanette’s taking care of the club all by herself now since…ya know.” she left it open-ended. As far as Santa Monica was concerned, Therese had met the sun or whatever flowery term was currently popular for the Final Death these nights; she’d promised not to tell the truth of that night and so far, she hadn’t.

Bertram paused, the instruction booklet crinkling in his hands. This was either a long setup for a bad joke, or Bubbles was being sincere; it was an even shot between the two options.

“Sometimes a girl just wants to be held and told she’s pretty and the best at her job _and_ that the beer delivery guy absolutely should be staked right in his gross balls.” Vinny insisted. “Actually I’m pretty sure that goes for everybody at some point. But you know, we’re talking about Jeanette right now.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Thanks for the advice, but we’re not that kinda--I mean that’s not us. Not that there’s really an _us_ that way--”

Vinny raised an eyebrow. It was on the tip of her tongue to point out all that flubbing sounded an awful lot like the other Nos _wanted_ there to be an ‘us’ of some type…but she still had questions to ask and pissing Bertram off was a _great_ way to not get that done.

“Shut it.” Bertram snapped. “Just--get to your point.”

“Hold on to your Allen wrench honey-lips, it’s _bizarre_ …” Vinny kicked off her heels and tucked her feet under, getting comfy on the one section of couch that didn’t have a spring poking all the way through the cushion. It wouldn’t take too long to give the facts, but the necessary fifteen minute detour to talk about what an asshole Isaac was was absolutely vital to un-life.

Bertram sat on the ground, elbow on his knee and chin in his hand, instruction booklet and parts ignored. Getting the source of the lockdown was all well and good, but the fact it was stupid Tzimische garbage threw more than a couple wrenches into most viable solutions. He wondered for a minute if baby-face Lacroix had any idea what was going on, or if this was just a conflagration of bad circumstances all coming together in coincidence…not that it mattered in the long run. “That’s…that’s some weird shit, Bubbles, you weren’t wrong.” he said slowly, playing for time.

“ _Right_?” Vinny shook her head. “I know it’s a big ask, but could you tell me how to _get_ to where the rest of the clan holes up? Lacroix’s sure Gary knows more than he’s said--which yeah, no shit, even _I_ know that and I’m the new kid here--but I’m under orders.” she made a face. “And I really, _really_ , really don’t want to sit through the rest of that weird-ass snuff film after finding it which probably involves some more bullshit.”

“I can’t.” Bertram said flatly. “It’s not personal, Bubbles.” he added quickly. “It’s not business either. It’s…it’s the way things gotta be.” Bertram bounced his fists against his thighs, trying (a little literally) to drum up the right way to explain. “You know…you know that we catch a lot of shit from other vamps just for…you know, existing like we do.” he began.

She nodded, but said nothing. It was obvious that Bertram was struggling to talk, and that was unusual enough that she didn’t dare interrupt, in case that would thoroughly derail his train of thought.

“Sometimes…sometimes, somebody in the position to do so decides they’re gonna try and run us off or get rid of us permanently. That’s happened here before--a little before my time, but that’s how Gary got the job as our prim…he’s the oldest one still kicking around.” Bertram sighed. “So I can’t just _tell_ you how to get to where you wanna go--not because I think you’d fuck us over like that, but because…it’s not just _me_ I’m looking out for, it’s the clan. That’s what being Nosferatu is--you keep after your own, even from your own sometimes…it’s really _not_ personal, Bubbles, it’s not.” he repeated. It wouldn’t take that much arm-twisting to get him to admit out loud that he actually liked the fledgling; she was brassy and cheerful, and so far hadn’t done too big a double-cross. But the Warrens _had_ to be protected.

Vinny sighed. “Ok. Ok, honey-lips, I promise I’m not taking offense…I’d _like_ to skip a full viewing of Isaac’s weird-ass snuff film, but if that’s the case that’s the case. Plus, if the area’s full of those creepy little flesh gremlin fuckers, they’ve gotta be cleaned out. So…thanks for listening, and for a little Nossie history lesson, and…I guess wish me luck.” she shrugged, unfolding from her position on the couch to find her heels and force her feet back into them. Vinny wasn’t sure if her feet were actually swollen from inappropriate footwear choices, or if things were still shifting around from the transformation to vampire. That was something to mull over and deal with later.

Bertram watched her fiddle with the heels, and the light catching on the glitter claw-job, debating with himself. The word from up top had been to wait-and-see what kind of Kindred she’d grow into being--see if she had any sense or if they’d lose her to Lacroix’s empty promises. Bubbles was still finding her claws in the night; he’d been reporting back to Gary pretty regularly but the prim was still reasonably wary. But the threat to the Warrens being ‘flesh gremlins’ and who-knew what other nightmare fuel the flesh-crafters had cooked up, Bertram thought he _might_ be able to get away with giving a little hint. Better to beg forgiveness and all that yada, yada.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Pay attention Bubbles: go back to Hollywood, but don’t bother with Isaac’s shit. Go to the waterworks department, go around the back, and get inside that way. Head _down_ the first ladder you get to there, and that’ll put you in the tunnels. You can get to the Warrens that way…it’ll take time, and it probably won’t be easy if those things are out in force, but…you won’t have to watch the full cut snuff film.” he shrugged.

“Yeah? Well ok. Ok, alright. _Thanks_ , honey-lips!” Vinny said brightly. “You’re uh…that’s not gonna screw up your night, is it? Telling me?”

“Eh, Gary’ll probably be pissed but if you can find your way yourself from that point, he can’t say I gave it up entirely.” Bertram replied. “I’ll manage fledgling, _you’re_ the one about to go underground with actual monsters.”

“That’s what shotguns were made for, honey-lips. I’m gonna go load out at Trip’s, and then…hey, if I survive, I’ll text you.” she flashed him dueling thumbs up.

“Give’em hell, Bubbles.” he said, smiling in spite of himself. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you…and uh…when you come to the four-ways, go right. Ok?”

Vinny nodded. “Got it. Four-way stop, head right. I assume there aren’t like four of those in a row.”

Bertram snorted. “No. No, it’s a legitimate maze down there. Just keep that in mind, and _eventually_ you’ll get to where you wanna go, as long as you’re alive to go.”

She nodded again. “I’ll text you later.” she repeated. “Good luck with your sex-slash-science project.”

He snorted again. “Thanks.”

Bertram watched the fledgling leave, and looked at the pile of parts on the ground. He’d put the thing together, get set up…it’d give him time enough to think on whether there was a way to suggest Vinny’s suggestion without sounding like a desperate fool…

After the fourth L-bend full of flesh-gremlins and other nightmares, Vinny wasn’t so sure that Bertram’s help had been _that_ helpful. While she was in the tunnels and it certainly was a maze, she didn’t feel any closer to the end-goal of the Warrens than when she was getting into the cab in Santa Monica...that is, until she heard a gravelly bellow and just barely caught a flash of something clawed fending off one of the bigger flesh-bags of nightmares.

“Hey!” she called out, picking up the pace; the concrete was smooth and cold and damp, and she could hear a clicking with every step that really made the point that her toenails were going the way her fingernails had gone (to thick dark claws that took _so many_ coats to cover). It was disconcerting, to say the least. “Hey!”

The turn she’d gone down to follow the fight dead-ended, and it seemed she’d gotten there just in the nick of time. The big flesh-bag had someone in its grip, but that someone still had their head, at least.

“Feet up!” Vinny bellowed, taking aim.

Fortunately, the endangered figure had her drift. They lifted their feet, throwing off the flesh-bag’s grip and giving Vinny a clear shot at the thing’s shins. It didn’t appreciate being shot, and threw its first prize to the side to lumber at her. Vinny counted off her shots, dancing back for clearance to reload. She’d done the dance enough to know how many shots it’d take if she couldn’t get the thing to try and bite the barrel. Fortunately they were pretty dumb terrifying beasts, charging mouth-open with next-to-no self-preservation.

Once it was so much ash, Vinny picked her way through the mess to where the other vampire was still crumpled on the ground. “Hey, hey--still with us, man? Are you ok?”

The vampire--a Nos with gold caps on his fangs and safety pins all through his ears--nodded, breathing hard. “Yeah, yeah. Just waiting on my ribs to knit back together--you got great timing.”

“Hold on, I still got…” Vinny shrugged out of her backpack. It was considerably lighter now than when she’d started the tunnels, the store of shotgun shells nearly gone. There was still the pistol and a few clips, but after that it’d be a game with the crowbar and dumb luck and she was _really_ hoping things didn’t go that far. “Wrong pocket, sorry.” she unzipped another and managed to pull a blood bag out without poking a hole in it. “Here.”

The other Nos gave her a surprised look. “A juice bag, really? Sure you wanna just give it up?” he asked even as he took it.

“Juice bag? …I thought that’s what we called the rats.” she replied.

He didn’t answer until the bag was empty. “Those are Ratpri-Suns. Get it?” he gave her a blood grin before tearing the bag open to lick it clean. “That’s a lot better, thanks.”

She nodded. “You don’t gotta give me exacts, but am I _any_ closer to the Warrens? That’s where I’m trying to get--I’m Vinny, by the way. Sorry, little out of order right now.”

“Klein. And yeah, you are.” the other Nos replied. “Thanks for the juice bag, cuz.” he got to his feet shakily.

“You wanna stick together? I’ve taken out a bunch but I don’t know if I’ve made a dent in them.” Vinny rose, dusting off her knees and shouldering the backpack again.

Klein shook his head. “Nah, once I get around that corner, I’m invisible and _gone,_ baby.” he grinned. “Generally works, except if one of those meat-bags sees you before you get full cover.” he explained.

“Ok…well take care, Klein. Be safe.”

He nodded. “You too, cuz.” Klein then stepped around her, heading for the earlier intersection. Then he paused. “When you get to the next big clean room, with the big control panel? Go to schrecknet on the menu, and type ‘FLUSH’. Go down what opens up, and that’ll drop you where you wanna go… _don’t_ make it a mistake, me telling you this, cuz.”

“Thanks Klein.” Vinny said slowly, more than a little surprised. Apparently finding the Warrens was going to be two steps forward and one back at every turn. “Really--be careful.”

“You too, Vinny. I’ll see you if you make it.” he said, winking, before taking off at a jog.

Vinny gave him time to get around the corner and be _gone_ before following his steps out of the dead end. It was only a three-way intersection, so she didn’t have to worry about turning right this time. The tunnels echoed with her steps and the fading steps of (presumably) Klein, but the screeching and grunting of the flesh gremlins wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been when she first set foot in the maze. _Hopefully_ that meant things were better than she’d thought they’d be, and that Klein’s definition of ‘nearly there’ actually meant _nearly there_ …


	2. Steps Up and Down

“Chinatown?” Vinny repeated.

“Chinatown.” Gary confirmed. “Don’t make that face boss, that’s just how the night goes.” he shrugged; a wide, dramatic gesture that looked good in black and white back in the day. “You’ll have to stop be the Golden Temple and make yourself known to their local bloodsucker, but after that you’d better be on the hunt.”

“Is the Golden Temple actually gold?” she asked. “I haven’t even been to Chinatown yet, I’m still learning the area.”

He laughed, a rasping bark of rare genuine amusement. At least the fledgling was honest about being a tourist! “It’s a piss-poor copy of the real thing. Tacky as Reno with none of the redeeming quality; and their…whatever you’d call the Kuei-jin-in-charge is a real pompous something-or-other. Her name’s Ming-Xiao, and she makes Joan Crawford look like a saint.”

Vinny stifled a snort. “Please, Gary, tell me how you _really_ feel.”

He smirked. “Watch it boss, I’m the head ghoul in charge here; that means _I_ get the best lines.” Gary pointed his finger sternly. When the new girl nodded, he dropped all semblance of humor. “I need you on this as fast as possible, boss. We need our boy back.”

She nodded. “I just have to restock, then I’m out--I mean I’m not _trying_ to walk into a firefight but so far that’s how it’s been nine times outta the ten.” Vinny sighed. “Can’t wait for the next new kid to show up, these nights are kinda expensive.”

“Let that be a lesson to you, boss. We’re not the action heroes, we’re the spies.” Gary replied. “I expect you’ll be waiting a bit…your entry’s got Sebastian’s designer panties in _quite_ the twist…or maybe it’s this whole ancient box business.” he shrugged again.

“Yeah, no kidding--” Vinny started, but was interrupted by dueling alarms. She swung the backpack around to dig her phone out of the supposedly waterproof pocket as Gary dug his out of his slacks. “Damn.” she muttered.

Gary flicked the alarm off. “Dawn alarm?”

“Dawn alarm.” she confirmed. The sunrise/sunset-tracking app was one of the first she’d downloaded for the cheap little smart phone that had been sitting in the crappy room at Santa Monica. Its screen was cracked and it was slow as hell; she’d have to help herself to an upgrade sooner rather than later.

“Well…” Gary stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Can’t send you to Chinatown while it’s bright out. If you can find a place to bunk, you can spend the day around here. But then I want your perky ass out there and after our boy.” he said firmly.

Vinny nodded. “Right. Chinatown, Golden Temple, see if their…head M-I-C will tell me anything, and go from there.”

He raised an eyebrow. “M-I-C?”

“Monster-in-charge.” she grinned.

Gary gave another raspy bark of laughter. “I like that…you know boss, you might have a post-life career in radio comedy, if you keep the one-liners coming. Now am-scray…your prim needs his beauty sleep.”

Vinny flashed double-finger guns as the Nosferatu primogen disappeared from sight. She thought if she squinted, she _might_ be able to follow his movements; but she’d been told to scram and scram she would.

There was something peaceful and actually quite nice about the Warrens, now that Vinny had the time and space to take it in. There were strings of fairy-lights crisscrossing the roof of the cavern, glowing softly over the water and making bright spots on the old highway signs and reclaimed siding and planks. She couldn’t see anyone else, but there was a soft rolling murmur of conversation and the occasional snippet of music; a much nicer background than the wailing horns and screaming fights that made up the soundtrack around the pawnshop apartments. The water under the incredibly DIY bridge was generally clear, home to darting little fish that were nearly completely see-through and seemingly unperturbed by the noise Vinny made as she made her way over the bridge. She could see doors tucked here and there and everywhere, forced into the rock walls at odd angles; hopefully there were folks within who wouldn’t mind sharing space for a day.

Laughter and the sound of an old keyboard drew Vinny to a nearly-upright door; pressing an ear to the door, she could hear muttering and more clacking. Obviously someone was inside, so she knocked. Then she cracked the door and stuck her head in. “Uh…hey, anybody home?”

The little rock nook was lit by mostly purple bat-shaped lights, and three standing fans were whirring at different speeds, causing the peeling edges of a broad selection of horror movie posters to ruffle. There was a bunk bed and large army trunk to the right, and towards the back of the room was a collection of computer towers and screens, and a massive computer chair with claw marks down the back.

“ _Fuckin_ ’ spawn campers, see how you like it when you’re _banned_ bitch--huh? Hold on, hold on.” The chair squealed as it turned around, revealing a Nos in DBZ pajama pants and a posture brace that was clearly worn out, judging from the way he could still hunch in the seat. “…can I…help you?” he said slowly, clearly confused.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Gary said if I could find a space to bunk down, I could spend the day here.” she said apologetically.

“Oh-- _oh_ , oh you’re the new girl! Yeah, come in. Bottom bunk’s mine but if the top is dry enough for you, you’re welcome to it.” The Nos said cheerfully. “Gimme a sec--” he said as he turned back around, “round’s almost over, just gimme a-- _you again?!_ You _really_ want me to start wrecking your real life too, huh _?!”_

“Thanks.” Vinny replied, letting herself in and closing the door behind her. She stepped carefully, just in case any of the cables snaking the floor were _that_ important. Peering around the battered chair, Vinny saw what had the Nos so frustrated. “ _Oh wow_ , I didn’t think anybody was still hanging around the Doom lobbies.”

“It’s got its moments, as long as you’re not stuck in a round with somebody trying to get views.” the Nos said with a shrug, turning his chair towards her. “You play?”

“Sometimes, yeah. I spent more time playing that one when they first introduced the multiplayer mode, and it was kinda fun. Then a buncha griefers showed up at the same time as a bunch of trolls on my stream and it was too much frustration for my taste; I went back to chillin’ with indie games and shit.” she said. “I’m Vinny, by the way.”

“Mitnick--you stream? I mean you used to?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. Started as a joke-slash-fundraising thing--bunch of us did streams in our burlesque costumes, ran the risk of getting banned from Twitch in the name of breast cancer research. Kept it up after October ended because it was fun for the most part.”

“That’s really cool…so…you used to do burlesque? Like the stripping?”

“Yeah, but no pole work. No disrespect to pole work, because that shit is _hard_ \--I’ll take my chair and prop choreography, _that_ I can do.” she snorted.

“No disrespect here.” Mitnick replied, holding his hands up. “Just asking, cuz ya know...” he shrugged. He frowned. “…or maybe you don’t?”

“Know what?”

Mitnick scratched his cheek and then brushed the resultant flakes off his chest. “Sorry. Dry. _Anyway_ …the--I guess you’d say--the Nosferatu way. You know, you Turn someone and it’s a step up or a step down.” he explained.

Vinny frowned. “I’m really not following, my dude.”

“Well…ok for instance--for me, _total_ step up!” Mitnick started. “I was hacking around, like usual, and I found this weird little rabbit hole, so I go down and it’s one of the old Nos networks. I mean it wasn’t anything important in the grand scheme of things, but the shit I found on it…blew my mind.” he shook his head. “Gary showed up a couple hours after I got out of it, made me an offer, and I took.”

“And it was a…?” Vinny prompted.

“Oh, a total step-up. I got _everything_ I need here, on top of pretty much immortality to keep doing it? It’s fuckin’ _sweet_.” he beamed. “And yeah some of the changes take some time to get used to--these wear out keyboards like you wouldn’t believe,” Mitnick snorted and waggled his clawed fingers at Vinny, “but I wasn’t that great looking before so…” he shrugged.

Vinny didn’t say anything.

Mitnick shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he’d stepped in it and the new girl was more of a Cleopatra than she seemed to be. “Um…so that’s one side. Other side is a step-down…like…well I dunno if you met her yet, Imalia? Her door’s white, and you can usually smell her perfume from like four feet away.”

“No, not yet.” She said slowly.

“Well…if you’re back down here, you won’t be able to miss her. And uh, don’t take whatever she yells at you personally. See the step-down, it’s…it’s what it sounds like. Somebody with a big ego--like Imalia--you go after, turn’em, try to bring’em back down to Earth. She used to be a model, kind of a big deal. Also a super mega bitch, which has so far not changed.” he added drily. “She’s one of Gary’s turns, but she’s still trying to go back. Only you can’t--I mean you know that.” he shrugged again.

“ _Yeah_.” Vinny replied, only half paying attention. It was a lot of insight to get in a short span of time, and she wondered which way _her_ step was supposed to have been. She hadn’t thought about her turning much since the execution--had avoided thinking about it as much as she could. But as her therapist back home had always warned: you can only ignore trauma for so long before it _demands_ to be accounted for.

It took a beat of awkward silence before Mitnick realized _just_ how awkward his conversation was. “Shit--right--your sire got the--and I-- _wow_ , I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I’ll go a while without talking to somebody face-to-face and I fuckin’ forget how to do it, I’m _so_ sorry.” he said hastily.

She shook her head. “No, no, you’re alright. It’s uh..it’s complicated, that’s all. You’re fine. It looks like your lobby filled up again, you better get back to it before you time out.” Vinny gestured to the computer.

“Shit--yeah. Thanks. Anyway uh…yeah.” Mitnick turned around to face the computer again.

“Mind if I watch?” she asked.

“Knock yourself out, just don’t mock my weapons choice.” he replied.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my man.” Vinny said with a snort.

She sat and watched Mitnick play for a while, both to quash down the uncomfortable thoughts and to just _enjoy_ something she used to. The nights since being turned had been long and full of fetch quests and mischief, but very little personal time. That was something to be corrected, _after_ she hit up Chinatown.


	3. Forget it Vinny, it's Chinatown

The visitor’s step was heavy and had a drag, giving them away in spite of what Ming-Xiao assumed was their best effort; they had at least managed to navigate the sliding door to her presence room without a tremendous fuss. She took a small sip of tea to warm her throat before addressing the room. “I know you are there,” she called out, “you may reveal yourself in full so that we may address each other as equals.”

Already Vinny didn’t like the admittedly elegant night creature. There was _something_ in her voice, something slimy and dishonest that only had a little bit to do with the vaguely Brit accent. But rules were rules and she needed at least a partial pass to go around Chinatown. “Hey, sorry to bust in here like this. Didn’t want to upset the armed guards outside, ya know?” For good measure, she pulled off her sunglasses.

Ming-Xiao made a non-committal noise as she took another sip and studied the _Kindred_ that now stood in her line of sight. With exception to the massive wrap-around sunglasses they wore, they could _almost_ pass among the dim-eyed living; especially around Chinatown where a cloth mask meant a proper social attitude. She wondered if this one was as deformed as the previous. “I can understand, and I appreciate that you have announced yourself so promptly.” she gestured to the cushion across from where she sat. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thanks, but I’ll stand. Knees tend to lock up.” Vinny lied. The room was low and wide, sparsely furnished, and their conversation was barely making a dent in the silence. It was unsettling, although she wasn’t sure _exactly_ why. But she was tense, and she preferred to be ready to run.

“Then might I offer you a cup of tea?” Ming-Xiao asked, keeping most of the irritation out of her voice. She had a brief urge to cut the Kindred at the knees to bring her down, but it was much too early to show her hand. When the Kindred shook their head, she let a few notes of mocking slip into her voice. “ _Oh_ , that is a _shame_. Your kind can no longer take in sustenance of any kind, yes?”

Vinny nodded, cheeks hurting for how stiff her smile was. She was _almost_ ready to cut every other vampire slack for their rudeness, because the level of petty bitchiness coming off Ming-Xiao made them all look mannerly by comparison. “Didn’t know you could. That a Kuei-jin thing or are you just that lucky?” she asked.

The Kindred either didn’t know how to modulate her tone _or_ she was brazen enough to show such disrespect in another being’s realm. “We are not so dissimilar, Kindred--”

“Vinny. Name’s Vinny, good to meet’cha.” Vinny interrupted. There wasn’t a lot she thought she could do to get the upper hand on the Kuei-jin, but she had petty in spades and Ming-Xiao did _not_ know how badly she could get out-pettied if Vinny really put her heart into it.

It didn’t matter whether the interrupting was an American thing, a Kindred thing, or a peculiarity of this thing’s ugly clan; Ming-Xiao was very close to giving in to her temper. There were hands enough around the domain to tackle the ugly little thing and drag it to the laboratories, and if all other observations on Kindred were correct, this one mattered so little as to be invisible and un-missed. “Vinny. I am Ming-Xiao; I bid you welcome to our domain.” she enunciated slowly.

“Heck of a domain, Ming-Xiao. I like the water wheel, it was very relaxing to hang around.” Vinny replied.

“I am so glad you had time to enjoy the grounds before you came to me.” Ming-Xiao said pointedly.

“Not from the area, I get a little tourist-y sometimes.” Vinny said. That wasn’t the water wheel she was talking about; before heading for the ‘obvious boss door’ (flanked by dragons, because Gary was right--tacky as Reno but nowhere _near_ as fun), Vinny had taken a few turns around the area within the wall. There had been a few close shaves in avoiding the patrols; she really did need to get better at being unseen. But Vinny had a pretty good map of the grounds, all things considered, and a real good idea of how to get underground--because there was no way this place didn’t have some kind of underground shenanigans going on. “And I’m a sucker for a well-manicured garden area.” she added.

“Well…” There was a weight in the thing’s words, but it was not _immediately_ clear what her insolence pointed to…besides a necessary routing of the patrols for somehow missing the prowling Kindred. “I am humbled by your praise. And as such, I grant you passage through my domain.” Ming-Xiao took another sip of tea.

If that wasn’t the most pompous thing she’d heard that night! “Well, I really appreciate that, Ming-Xiao, really do.” Vinny slid the sunglasses back on and adjusted the mask over her nose and mouth--wasn’t as much of the former as there used to be, and it made the mask and glasses sit a little funny…but for the moment it was a decent enough cover. “I don’t suppose you’d know anything about a guy named Barabus?” It was worth asking, even if she didn’t think Ming-Xiao could give an honest answer about the sky’s own color, let alone where she might start looking for the Nos.

“That name is not familiar to me, I am sorry.” Ming-Xiao said calmly; it was a lie and the truth all at once, because there was only one being she had come across with that name and he was no familiar of hers. “Is he a friend of yours?”

Vinny nodded. “Yeah--he was supposed to be hanging around here, nobody’s heard from him in a while, and we’re getting worried.”

“We?” Ming-Xiao repeated, eyebrow quirked. The observations had been that these things were a mixed blessing for the Kindred: provocateurs and spies and informants, but too hideous to keep company with for long--not ones that more presentable Kindred would risk life and limb for.

 _There_ it was--the tell. Maybe it was some extra-sensory/Nos-specialty thing, but in one little word, Vinny was suddenly very sure of a few things: Barabus was still _definitely_ somewhere around Chinatown, Ming-Xiao knew goddamn well where, and she was using the Nos as bait for _something_. Probably not another Nos, but definitely _something_. “Yeah--that’s the thing about Nosferatu…we look after our own.” she said, repeating Bertram’s words. Granted, she hadn’t yet gotten to join the club house, but Ming-Xiao didn’t need to know that. She just needed to understand that no matter how secure she thought her lil golden hut was, if she pushed the wrong way, it’d get pulled down one way or another.

“Nosferatu? Ah…the name of your--I believe the word is _clan_.” Ming-Xiao replied. She had heard the threat. But the ugly little thing was well out of her element, and her claws were nowhere near sharp enough to bring real lasting harm to the Kuei-jin.

Vinny nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. Talked to one of us before?”

“I make it a point to be educated, Vinny…it would be a shame to waste the gift of a long life on ignorance.” There was no more tea in the cup; _that_ was irritated. Ming-Xiao set the cup away from her to avoid an embarrassing moment of having to pretend to sip. “As I started to say earlier, Vinny…we are not so dissimilar.”

“Can’t argue with you too much there.” Vinny replied with a shrug. “But I’ve taken up enough of your time, running my mouth like I do…I’ve got a cousin to find, and the night’s wearing on.”

“I see.” Ming-Xiao said tersely. “It is painful when _family_ is missing, isn’t it?” she said, deliberately goading.

“And that’s why I’m here.” Vinny said brightly.

“You might go and speak to Wong Ho. He is a well-respected member of our community, and may have some information with regards to your… _cousin_.”

Vinny flashed a thumbs-up and took a step backwards before turning away. “Have a good night, Ming-Xiao.” she called back as she headed for the door.

“You as well, Kindred.” Ming-Xiao replied levelly, even as her nails bit into her palms as her hands curled into tight fists. After the door closed and she was comfortable that the ugly little thing was out of hearing range, Ming-Xiao uncurled her fists. “When Dr. Lang has her, inform him that he may be as vicious as he likes.” she announced. There were hands within the walls to carry her message forward without necessitating a meeting. “And tell him that I should like to attend the vivisection.” she added, allowing herself a small, vicious smile.

Vinny wiped her mouth and spat out the last dredges of blood. “Guy had a thing for pain pills; bitter as _fuck_.” she explained, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Guess that won’t be a problem for him anymore.” Barabus replied, massaging his chest and coughing. It’d take another couple of guards to finish patching up all the bullshit he’d been through since the whack-job Kuei-jin had nabbed him. “How’s your gut, cuz?”

“It’ll be alright.” Vinny replied, shaking her head. “Jack wasn’t kidding, shotguns fucking _hurt_.”

He nodded. “Yeah, _yeah_ , they definitely do. You clear on how to take out the server?”

She nodded. “Yeah, go ahead and get going man, get cover.”

“Owe you a solid, cuz. I mean I knew Gary’d send somebody eventually, but still…” Barabus shook his head. “See you back below, yeah cuz?”

Vinny snagged his sleeve as he turned away. “Hey, hey, when you get down there--”

“I’ll call.” Barabus confirmed.

“No, I know, I know--just if you can, get Mitnick to kill the fire alarm for like…twenty minutes or so.”

He raised an eyebrow. “ _Oh_?”

“I don’t wanna burn Chinatown down, but fuck these guys.” Vinny said sharply.

Barabus grinned wide, revealing extra fangs and one with a hole in it. There _used_ to be a gem set in there, just for shits and giggles. He wasn’t sure where and when he’d lost it while he’d been imprisoned, but he kinda missed it. “Yeah, fuck’em. See you back home, cuz--don’t set yourself on fire too.”

Vinny let go of his sleeve and flashed him a thumbs up, then clawed open the door to the server room as Barabus took off. The thick, heavy doors didn’t stand a chance against her claws; she could push through them like cardboard, pulling pieces off until the lock came out and they lost the fight to keep her out. She mumbled to herself, going over and over the steps to overload the servers to blow them out, like Barabus had explained. Her plan was to get it mostly set up, then double back and start a bunch of small fires in the other rooms to cause havoc and hopefully do even more damage.

As she was drizzling some overly strong cologne on a desk and getting ready to light it, her phone went off. “ _Yellow_?”

“ _Hey_ cuz, you blow the servers yet?” Barabus’ voice crackled on the line.

“I’m two steps away from doing it, just got one last thing to light up--hey, hey, Mitnick’s watching this place, right?” she asked.

“Natch, what do you need?”

“If he can--he probably can--get him to delay the fire response for like…I dunno, ten minutes? Give shit time to burn, ya know?” she said, before groaning in frustration. “Lighter’s being fucking difficult!”

He cackled. “Got it cuz--hey, hey, don’t get burnt too. I’m passing you over.”

“Take care Barab--ah _ha_!” she finally managed to get the friction wheel to cooperate, touching it to the desk and jumping back. “Holy _shit_ \--Drakkar Noir is fuckin’ flammable.”

“I could’ve told you that, _boss_.”

“ _Gary_!” Vinny said brightly.

“The one and only--you did good getting our boy back, kid. So go blow those servers, and then redial as soon as you’re out of the building.” he ordered.

“Can do, gimme like five minutes.” she replied.

Less the five minutes later, thanks to Barabus’ excellent instructions and her eagerness to get away from the smell of smoke, Vinny hit redial on the last number.

“Very _good_ boss.” Gary said approvingly. “I’m a man of my word, so listen close and maybe steal yourself a pair of dancing shoes, because you’re on your way to a party.”

 _That_ didn’t sound promising in the least. “Is it gonna be as lively as your cast reunion?”

He laughed. “Maybe…the Giovannis are a weird bunch, and you never know who or what you’ll find swept under the rug. They’re just as interested in the old box as your,” he snickered, “ _boss_ , and unless something’s changed, they’re probably the ones who have it. Nicky’ll send you a map with the address, do take care…and give’em one for Gary.” he hung up before getting an answer; the sunrise was ticking ever closer and there just wasn’t time to trade jokes with the fledgling. He’d save that for another night.

Vinny took a deep breath. It was never a good sign when another vampire said something was _weird_ ; especially when a _Nos_ said something was weird. Her phone pinged as Mitnick’s directions landed. At least, at the absolute very least, she could get the hell out of Chinatown before somebody else tried to kill her…


	4. Calvin Klein Likes the Buoys

It was another week before Vinny had the time and space to sneak down to the Warrens, a fact that rankled her even more than two layers of Spanx. Lacroix finally had his magic freaking box, but no key, and that was now _her_ problem that she didn’t ask for. But for the moment, with no leads and Beckett doing his best ‘golly gee whiz, wish I could help but not really’, Vinny had some night time to herself, and a new entrance to try (courtesy of a very grateful if not slightly embarrassed Bertram). That the pipe that was visible near the pier in Santa Monica wasn’t actively spewing grossness into the waters was a real relief to find out. It just required timing the tides right to avoid having to swim in.

Vinny picked her way across the sand and shallows, grateful that the somewhat-regular collection of hang-abouts weren’t hanging about for a change. It was kind of sad that the Aussie kid and his girlfriend had left, but that was probably better for them. She hoped they’d taken the confused fortune-teller and the high-strung kid with them when they went; if ever a couple of kids needed keepers, it was the Thin lot. Hoisting herself up into the pipe, Vinny thought she heard a faint snicker. That generally meant one of two things: someone was around to see her totally viable grace, _or…_ well that someone _invisible_ was around to see her totally viable grace. “Look, if you’ve got any tips for getting up, I’d be happy to hear them.” she said drily, sarcasm echoing weirdly in the tube.

Klein popped into view, grill just as gold as ever. “More arm, less using your face for a landing pad.” he said cheerfully. “How’s the night, cuz?”

“Smoggy and hot as usual, Goldie-Grillz. You taking in some of the smog or am I not supposed to be around this way?”

“Nah, you can come in, cuz. I like watching the buoys bounce so if I’m not in my room, and it’s dark, I’m probably over here.” he explained. “Hadn’t seen you around, was a little worried you might’ve gotten got.”

She shook her head. “Nah, Lacroix just had me on the _shortest_ friggin’ leash after the thing at the Giovanni’s. But I got time, and I thought I might go yell at Gary.”

“...yell at Gary? You…you do know he’s our Prim, right? Like…the head Nos, big boss, king of floss?” Klein said, eyes a little bugged out in disbelief.

“Oh I know. But see, he only said that the Giovanni place would be _weird_ , but he didn’t say _shit_ about _shit_ , and lemme tell you Klein, cuz, babe-- _weird did not begin to cover it_.” Vinny shuddered. “I dunno what Italy’s equivalent to the ‘Deliverance’ banjos are, but that whole family is literally that, but also add flesh gremlins, zombies, and necrophilia to boot--which call me squeamish, but _that_ is like top five of the worst things I’m running into these nights.”

Klein giggled, a simultaneously shrill and rasping, jiggling sound of amusement. He wiped his eyes. “Sorry, cuz, sorry. Just love that you’ll throw yourself into a Tzimische pit, set fire to an office building, and put up with Lacroix, but the necro is what makes you twitch.”

She shrugged. “I deal better with things I can do things back to? It’s a give-and-take, my cuz, and uh…that last thing? There’s only taking, and that makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Huh…” Klein rubbed his chin, then squeezed a spot and flicked off what came out; it was a habit he’d developed post-Turning, when acne came back with a vengeance. “I guess I never thought about it--I mean I’m not swiping right in the cemetery, I just…yeah it’s not a thing to think about. But that’s a really good point.” he said, finally. “Anyway, go on through. But don’t yell at Gary too bad, you know how we are.”

“Look, he’s gonna get some yelling, but don’t worry--I do like the guy.” Vinny said breezily, dusting herself off and heading down the pipe away from Klein. “Enjoy your buoys, cuz.”

“Always do.” he said cheerfully, moving to the lip of the pipe to sit down and dip his toes in the water as the tide started coming in.

Vinny made her way to the Warrens, catching more of the subtle landmarks Nos leave behind: sets of parallel scratches to mark a path, rat bones jammed upright in the dirt marking a dark enough rest spot, things like that. Neat little things that should (in theory) carry over between places, for if and when she decided to leave California. Eventually Vinny found herself at a run-off point that was probably fed at least in part by the water pool in the main cavern of the Warrens.

There were a few Nos visible, sitting comfy on old lawn chairs and chunks of concrete by the water. A Nos she didn’t recognize was messing around with an incredibly battered guitar, and she could hear Deb of the Night faintly, although she couldn’t see where the radio was. Gary himself was lounging waterside, under a torn striped umbrella and wearing the loudest, tackiest Hawaiian shirt--blinding lemon yellow and dotted with bodacious swimsuit girls.

“Well, well, _well_ \--prodigal daughter comes home and all that.” He called out, raising a plastic coconut up in mock-toast. “I was starting to think you’d gotten got or just didn’t appreciate our finery.”

Vinny rolled her eyes and shook her head, picking her way to the foot of his lounge chair. “Wasn’t expecting to catch you out of your formal wear; gotta say, I dig it.”

“So you _do_ have taste after all,” he replied, gesturing to a wobbly folding chair nearby, indicating she should sit, “even if you never call, or write us.” Gary said pointedly. The girl had done a lot of good for them in a short amount of time, but she didn’t have the long history that Bertram had; hadn’t built up enough trust to go disappearing off without a word.

It was a little strange, being on the receiving end of a paternal guilt trip after everything, but if he wasn’t telling her to clear out for good or starting a fire fight, things were probably fine. At least, that’s what Vinny figured as she sat down as bidden. “ _Well_ …the Giovanni party wasn’t a total bust, because I did find the stupid box. But Gary? _Weird was not the right word_.” she glared at him.

He grinned, wide and toothy. “We didn’t have time for me to thumb through a thesaurus, boss. But you’re here, and you’ve got most of your parts, so it must’ve gone…well you survived, obviously.”

She nodded. “I did. Lacroix’s got his box, but like any mystery box, it’s locked with a key that we don’t have; so there were a few nights I wound up hanging around Beckett while he did his thinking thing. Finally got cut loose because what the hell do I know about ancient Assyrian goods?”

“Beckett, huh? What’d you think of him?” Gary asked, bringing the coconut cup to his face and taking a whiff. There was no point in trying to sip the strawberry daiquiri mix as it was, but he enjoyed the syrupy, fake fruitiness of it. Reminded him of days in Palm springs that he did _occasionally_ miss.

“He’s alright? Makes me think of one of those guys whose parents beat him over the head to study and ace everything so he missed out on the whole ‘dealing with actual live people’ part of schooling…but I dunno, after the initial squint, he was pretty chill.” Vinny replied. That was the general truth, and after spending a couple of nights with Beckett, she was almost willing to bet the squint was less the typical ‘ew, Nos’ and more ‘who is this pleb why am I surrounded by plebs?’. “To his full credit, he doesn’t hate answering questions, which makes him a lot better to work around then pretty much everyone else in Lacroix’s tower.” she snorted.

Gary laughed. “That sounds about right for Beckett…when he’s not running around on four legs.”

“Tell me about it--his idea of saying hello was to friggin’ jump down at me from the top of a train car like that, and _then_ shift back, and then be like ‘no sweetie, if I were an _actual_ werewolf you’d be dead mmkay?’.” Vinny shook her head. “But I can’t really complain about him, he’s actually kinda funny if you can make it past the book-snoot.”

“Oh right, the warehouse job. Starting to think you might be a little arsonist, dear.” Gary said, setting the coconut aside.

“I’m _not!”_ Vinny protested. “I mean generally…look _that_ was a job, and the thing in Chinatown was because they pissed me off. I don’t wanna be _that_ Nos, but I’m about damn sick of dealing with Kuei-jin anybody.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

She nodded. “The one that was going around Santa Monica--you know, that Bertram was having Knox tail? In fairness to Knox, who is a very sweet little himbo, him not being able to keep up with that guy was _not_ his fault. All the ones I’ve run into and had to fight could do the magical ‘poof’ trading places thing.”

“All the ones? _Oh_ , you need to clarify _now_.” Gary sat up sharply, planting his feet on either side of the lounge chair. What was supposed to be a relaxing lounge by the pool had just turned into a serious meeting.

“There was that guy, in Santa Monica--he’s dead now.” Vinny held up a finger. “Chinatown, of course, had more than a couple that came at me, they’re dead too.” she held up a second finger. “There were two at the Giovanni mansion guarding the box--they had some shit to say before they wanted to fight, and I don’t know how reliable they were or if it was just shit-talking, but uh…” Vinny pursed her lips. She hadn’t told a soul about what the brothers had said--about an alliance between Lacroix and Ming-Xiao--because it was just preposterous enough to either be completely true or a total lie, there was no in between.

Gary twitched his fingers in a ‘come on’ motion, but didn’t say anything. He watched the fledgling fidget and frown, visibly weighing her options. He wondered if it was a matter of distrust, or if she was just an unsure fledgling dropped into the middle of the biggest shit-show of the night in recent times.

“They said there was an alliance between Lacroix and Ming-Xiao,” Vinny said in a low voice, “that they were working together to conquer the area and split the spoils, to get rid of the Anarchs, to something-something about the box, I don’t know…” she trailed off.

“Does anybody else know what you’ve heard? _Anybody_ at all?” Gary asked.

She shook her head. “I uh…I mentioned the Kuei-jin once at the anarchs’ bar--just to ask them what the fuck that even was. The response was pretty explosive--no surprise from Damsel, but Skelter’s got some demons that he just…” Vinny made a face and whistled. “And all I had to go on was some talk from a couple of now-dead guys, so it’s not like I can run up to Lacroix and be like ‘ _hey_ so what the fuck, man?’. So I’ve just been…sitting on it.”

He nodded. “Smart.” Gary said shortly. “You don’t tell another person; in fact, _I_ didn’t even hear this, ok? We,” he gestured vaguely to the room, “deal in information. Not always solid information, and even when someone’s bought it, we don’t give them everything.” he said firmly. “And we always keep our eyes open, our ears pricked, our mouths shut, and our claws ready.”

Vinny swallowed, nodding slowly, and more than a little frightened. Maybe she shouldn’t have said a damn thing after all.

Gary nodded, easing back into a more comfortable position on the lounge chair and picking up his coconut. “You still in that shitty hole above the pawn shop in Santa Monica?” he asked.

The abrupt change in tone was about as disconcerting as the hard face he’d turned on her moments earlier. “Uh--yeah. Got rid of the mattress that _was_ there at least, but the whole place needs like six bug bombs, a few coats of paint, and a dereliction notice.” she replied.

“I think that’s the way it is for those kinds of apartments; if you’re over a pawnshop, a restaurant, or a five & dime, they’re gonna be real iffy.” He chuckled. “You should’ve seen some of the places I rented before I got _Golden_.” he grinned. “Not that any of’em are still standing anymore. Time and gentrification are a helluva thing.”

“Ugh, do not remind me. Before I got turned, I was scrambling to find a new place because my building got bought out by one of those freaking all-in-one wedding service places…it’s probably a dress store or a bakery at this point.” Vinny rolled her eyes. “Pay five times as much for what is probably Betty Crocker cake mix with fondant on top, _no thanks_.”

Gary laughed, a sharp bark that drew the attention of the other Nos at the water for a moment, before they went back to their conversations and strumming. “A racket is a racket is a racket.” he took another whiff of the daiquiri and chuckled. “You know…there’s room down here. In fact, the blue door not too far from Mitnick’s space is uh…well it’s free.” he shrugged. “Reggie doesn’t need it anymore.”

Vinny wanted to ask what happened, but it seemed…wrong? Or not wrong, but inappropriate maybe. “Really? That’d be awesome.” she settled on saying instead.

He nodded. “You earned it. You did good by us, kid. As long as you keep doing good and don’t bring hunters down on us, you’re all right.”

She nodded. “Awesome…can I ask you something? It might not be appropriate but you _are_ the oldest one of us here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Watch it, boss, I’m not without ego.”

She snorted. “No, no, it’s--I ran into hunters in Hollywood…and around Confessions--you know the bar downtown that’s in a church? What I wanted to ask was…how are they so dangerous and so stupid at the same time?”

Gary frowned and cocked his head. “I’m not quite following, boss.”

“I can explain.” Vinny began. It didn’t take long for her to take Gary through the shenanigans of sneaking Ash out of his own club, or how easy the skirmish behind Confessions was.

“They were probably pretty young, and blind fanaticism does kill brain cells.” Gary said when she’d finished. “But really, right there _on_ the dance floor?”

She nodded. “And then just stood there like ‘gee, why is this body here, don’t vampires turn to ash?’” Vinny said in a mock southern accent. “I do kinda feel bad for the guy that got staked, but…” she shrugged.

“Huh…” Gary shook his head. “Well, watch your step anyway. If you get killed by someone _that_ stupid, that just makes us all look bad.” he snorted. “Poor Ash; an object of obsession for Isaac but the old coot doesn’t even take care of him.”

“Yeah, _apparently_ he was waiting for Ash to come to him, and like ok--one: how can Ash do that when he’s pinned down in his club by hunters, and _two_ : if that’s your Childe or whatever, how are you gonna be that petty when their actual existence is on the line?” she demanded.

“Normally I’d say, sometimes the Childe isn’t worth the hassle, but in Isaac’s case…he’s just a bastard. Always has been, even back in the _Golden_ age.” Gary replied, well-assured. “Didn’t treat his secretaries well, didn’t want to pay anybody but his fixers proper, and skipped out on more than one IOU after poker.”

“ _Wow_ …but he’s got the balls to call _me_ names.” Vinny said drily. “I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with him right now. I’d say ‘or ever again’ but you know what, I’m not jinxing myself like that tonight.”

“Smart.” Gary said approvingly. “Steps up and down, kid, that’s what it’s all about.” It was a common enough statement around the Warrens, a reminder of one of the Nosferatus’ biggest creeds, and he said it without thinking. But the fledgling’s face tightened, and a shadow came over her eyes. He wondered for a moment (not unlike Mitnick) if she had been a Cleopatra. “You alright there?”

It was a gut-punch, being reminded again of what drove Nosferatu Turnings. Vinny looked down at her hands, which had knit themselves tight together. “Um…I don’t know. If um…if I can figure out what to say, can I um…can I come back and ask you something about that? About the stepping up and down stuff?” she asked hesitantly.

There was more to the kid’s turning, that was obvious; but if he had to bet (and Gary did enjoy his wagers) he’d bet her sire had counted it as more of a step up than down. She was too helpful and too bubbly in her current state for it not to be at least partly natural. And obviously she never got an explanation--good or otherwise--from the scrub before Lacroix has his head off. Her confusion was definitely reasonable. “Sure, kid. You missed out on the welcome packet after all, gotta get you caught up to the rest of us.” he added.

Vinny managed a small smile. “Right. Um…so, blue door near Mitnick’s?”

He nodded. “Yeah, can’t miss it. Probably the only thing that’ll be in there at this point are an old Army cot and a box of Ding-Dongs from I don’t even know when…all I ask is you leave the snack cakes in there. Put’em where you want but…ya know, as kind of a memorial, let’s say.” Gary chuckled quietly; Reggie and his snack cakes. Every few years he’d try to eat one knowing full well it wasn’t going to go well, but damn he loved those little things.

“No problem, no problem at all.” she said, nodding, curious about the wistful expression on Gary’s face but unsure if she was allowed to ask.

“In the meantime, kick up your heels. It’s a beautiful night and KC got the radio working. It’s a real pool party now.” he said, pushing back against the grief.

“And me without a suit.” Vinny replied, leaning down to pull her shoes off.

“Gotta get better at the talents, kid; modesty doesn’t matter if nobody can see you.” Gary pointed out. “Not that modesty’s a thing we worry _that_ much about.”

Vinny snorted, shaking her head as she worked to get her feet free without destroying the shoes. It was high time to do something about the ends of her claws again; once she saw how much space she had in the Warrens, she’d see about setting up a proper little space to chill and beautify in.


	5. Asking Nos Questions, Getting Nos Answers

“... _and_ there. You’re all set up.” Mitnick said as he finished the login and then passed the laptop back to Vinny.

“Thanks--I feel like my grandmother right now though.” Vinny snorted as she balanced it on her knees, once again commandeering Mitnick’s bottom bunk for seating. “Having to have my shit set up for me like thi-- _Succbook, really?_ ”

He chuckled. “Don’t feel too bad; we’re talking about _our_ own network with this, you’d need me one way or another.” Mitnick said proudly. “Gary wasn’t too sure about it to begin with, but it’s nice to have like…our own kinda thing that the Kine can’t get into usually.” he chuckled. “I mean, what else were we gonna call it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, and I can’t decide if I’m mad or delighted about it.”

Mitnick snorted. “And if you hit the ogre-head icon, that’s _our_ own thing. Nos-only, and if somebody breaches the trust, we burn the whole thing so um…don’t put shit there you don’t want to lose because we _won’t_ be able to recover it.” he explained.

Vinny nodded. “Gotcha. So, pics, conversations, all that?”

“A-ok on both if you can be seen in pictures--there are a couple of clans that like actually can’t be caught like that. You’d think we’d be one of them but,” he shrugged, “plus we have a marketplace function so like you don’t have to wade through weirdos trying to get furniture or medical-grade storage stuff.”

“Huh…” Vinny started clicking around; it was close enough to Facebook to navigate easily.

“Yeah, it’s pretty handy--it’s uh…it’s not connected to the other one.” Mitnick said quietly, watching the cheery Nos’ fingers flex and hesitate over the keyboard.

“R-r-right--of course not, that’d be--I mean that’d defeat the purpose, right?” she replied faintly, throat tight. “I hadn’t even looked at _that_ side since I uh…sorry.”

“It’s ok.” he reached over and nudged her knee. “Really. A lot of us still want to check…I think most of us don’t because--aside from the Masquerade shit, if you don’t know it can’t hurt you and stuff…Imalia still stalks hers, but probably not a _great_ example of things to do on a Friday night.” Mitnick added.

“Right. Sorry; I mean doesn’t matter, as far as back home is concerned, I’m dead so…no point.” Vinny cracked her knuckles, pulling on her fingers to do it and try to recenter herself.

“You should check out the marketplace section.” Mitnick said after clearing his throat in discomfort. “Your room’s still pretty empty, right?”

Vinny wiped her nose on the back of her hand roughly. “Right, yeah--that cot is _killing_ my back, I need something better. Got the shelves up though, they weren’t too bad to put together.”

“Yeah? I thought maybe they wouldn’t want to play nice with the rock anchors, but hey, lucky you. And me now, I can throw some up in here.” he grinned.

“Oh sure, use _me_ for the test subject. Jerk-ass.” she snorted. “Ooh, _this_ is pretty. But would a sleigh bed be too clunky in there?” Vinny asked, turning the laptop around to show the picture.

“Huh, so that’s a sleigh bed…” Mitnick said thoughtfully, squinting at it. “My folks had one of those.”

“Man, there’s a lot of furniture here…” Vinny murmured.

“Who’s listing it?”

“Uh…somebody named Eloise. She’s local.” Vinny said.

“ _Oh_ \--yeah, she’s cool. Toreador, but cool. Big into woodworking, she made that herself, I’m betting.” he explained.

“...she _made_ this and it’s this cheap? What’s the catch?” Vinny demanded. The bed, advertised as oak and looking heavy as a showroom piece, barely cracked three digits _and_ had an OBO after the price. Either it was lies that would make even Wish feel ashamed, a monkey’s paw kind of deal where it was full of fleas or termites or some other terror, or it was stolen and had to be offloaded fast.

Mitnick chuckled. “No catch, El really _is_ that cool. Her Sire basically pays her to hang out and make shit all night, so every so often she just puts a bunch of shit out super cheap to make room. You know the dining table in Gary’s spot?”

She nodded.

“El made that, all it cost him to get it and the chairs was twenty bucks and an autograph on one of his old movie posters. He got a big kick out of it.” Mitnick explained. “She just really likes what she does and she’s good at it.” he added.

“Well…guess I’ll make an offer…how can I bribe you to come with me to pick it up?” Vinny teased.

“I mean if we’re not having problems and it’s not Wednesday night, I’ll go.” he said with a shrug.

“What’s happening Wednesday night?” Vinny asked as she finished filling out the contact form.

“I uh…I got a date.” Mitnick said, grinning dopily.

Vinny raised an eyebrow, intrigued and generally nosy. “ _Oh_? Who with?” she asked, closing the laptop.

“Mind your own.” Mitnick said immediately, avoiding her eyes and scratching a dry spot on his cheek.

“Oh _come on_ , you can’t drop that on me and then play dumb.” Vinny pouted. “Is it somebody around the Warrens?”

“Vinny _stop_.” Mitnick dropped his voice. “It’s not somebody from down here and I’m not trying to advertise it, ok?” he patted the dry spot to keep from digging his claws into it. Anxiety always made him itch worse.

“Ok, ok…take it easy. Um…legit question, not me trying to be in your business, but…are we not supposed to date and shit as vampires?” she asked.

“It’s um…it’s kind of complicated. I mean some clans have rules about like… ‘you don’t date other Kindred’ or ‘you don’t date Kine’ or ‘you can date but only other members of your Clan’. I think the Tremere aren’t even supposed to date or fuck around with anybody at all?” he shrugged. “Gary’s cool, he doesn’t give a shit so much about who you’re dating, as long as it doesn’t cause a Masquerade breach, doesn’t bring the Camarilla down on us, and doesn’t put the Warrens in danger.” Mitnick counted off the big three on his fingers.

“Oh…ok, that’s actually really good to know. I mean mostly I just flirt but you know, sometimes the coffin gets lonely.” Vinny joked.

Mitnick snorted. “Yeah…it’s kinda hard though. For us, I mean.” he rolled his eyes. “We’re not like the _pretty_ ones,” he scoffed, “so…it’s hard to even getting numbers sometimes.”

“Eh,” Vinny shrugged, “physical beauty only counts for so much.”

“Yeah, _ok_.” he replied.

“Says the guy with a date on Wednesday night.” Vinny pointed out. “Besides, Mister Techno-Wizard, funny guys are _always_ in, and you’re pretty hilarious.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head to try and hide an embarrassed grin. “Mister Techno-Wizard, I kinda like that.”

“Good, that’s what you’ll be in my phone as--or you _would_ be, if you didn’t keep scrambling.” Vinny squinted at him.

“Hey, gotta be stealth.” Mitnick replied with a shrug. “You hear back about the bed yet?”

“Oh shit, right--everybody’s awake this time of night.” Vinny opened the laptop again. “So used to it being me and like…people on the other side of the world.”

“ _Right_? Kinda wish we could get a server going, but not a lot of Kindred outside of us admit to gaming. Losers.” Mitnick snorted.

“Ok, but could you imagine Lacroix trying to play like…Fall Guys or something?” Vinny asked.

“No, but I would pay money to hear him panicking during Phasmaphobia. Like I know ghosts are real, and that game _still_ makes me jump.”

“That’s because ghosts can be _such_ assholes.” Vinny replied. “Oh sweet, I got an invite to come and look at the bed. It’s on the up-and-up, right?”

“Yeah, absolutely--” Mitnick started to reassure her, but was interrupted by his door swinging open. “ _Klein_ , dude! Don’t bang my shit open!” he protested.

“My bad, hand slipped.” Klein replied. “What’s up cuzzes?”

“Looking into furniture for my room.” Vinny answered. “How’s it going, Goldie-grillz?”

“Oh you know, easy-breezy-beautiful cover-ghoul.” he grinned, showing off the aforementioned grill. “Were you going topside?”

“Yeah, to go see about this bed.” She nodded.

“Can I come with? I’ll even help you lug it back.”

Mitnick squinted at him. “What did you do?”

Klein held his hands up in surrender, trying to put on his most innocent face. “ _I_ didn’t do anything. But Tawny Sessions got that Nick Choice Award for that weird sci-fi movie she did so…” he trailed off, shaking his head, eyes wide.

“ _Ah_.” Mitnick nodded. “Say no more.” he waved his hand. “You know how to get to Eloise’s anyway, you can show Vinny.”

“Uh…what am I missing?” Vinny asked.

“Imalia’s--” the pair began in unison.

“--gonna be _pissed_.” Mitnick finished.

“--throwing things at anything that moves.” Klein said.

“I am _definitely_ missing something.” Vinny shook her head as she closed the laptop after confirming a time and got off Mitnick’s bed.

“It’s cool, I’ll tell you on the way to El’s shop.” Klein said.

“Hey, close the door behind you--last time Sessions won something, she ripped the head off my Funko Hulk.” Mitnick ordered, pointing a firm finger at Klein.

Klein flashed him a thumbs up.

“Can I at least drop my laptop off or is that too close to the danger zone?” Vinny asked. “Mine’s the blue door just right of here.”

“You’re _probably_ within the splash zone, but nah, it’s fine.” Klein nodded. “You’ll like the walk, trust me; later little brother.” he said as he slipped out the door.

Mitnick rolled his eyes. “That guy,” he said with a little derision and a lot of warmth, “good luck getting your furniture.”

She nodded. “Good luck protecting the Hulk.”

He grinned. “As long as you close the door behind you, we’re safe. Have a good night, lil sis.”

“Night, Mister Techno-Wizard.” Vinny replied cheerfully before closing the door behind her.

Klein set an easy pace that would’ve been a problem if they were closer to sunrise, but for the time being it was fine. “And _that_ is why, if you know what’s good for you, you have never ever _ever_ heard of Tawny Sessions and she sounds dumb anyway.” he said, capping a long winding explanation of the generally one-sided feud that occasionally shook their part of the Warrens.

“To be completely honest, I didn’t _actually_ know who that was until you said anything.” Vinny replied. “Mitnick told me Imalia was a ‘Cleopatra’ or something like that, but _damn_ …is there a Nos therapist we could get her to?”

He laughed, a loud hacking noise that startled the rats nearby. “No such luck cuz, not that she’d go if there was. Pretty much a sink-or-swim when we get made, and she is _sinking_.” Klein punctuated the observation with a cluck of disappointment.

“Can I ask a Nos question?”

“Sure, but you’ll get a Nos answer.” he grinned at her.

Vinny rolled her eyes. “Well I’d expect to, seeing as how _you are one_.” she reached out to mock-swat him, careful to be slow and gentle in case he moved close enough to actually hit.

Klein easily danced out of reach, flashing her a wink of understanding. “See, _that_ is why I like you cuz, you get it. What’s your question?” he asked as he fell back in step with her.

“Is it…I dunno, I guess is it a thing to call everybody like ‘cuz’ or ‘lil sis/baby bro’, stuff like that? I hear it around but…ya know, still learning the ways.” she explained.

“Oh yeah, yeah. I mean for a lot of us, this is the best family we get. It’s not like a _hierarchy_ thing, it’s a…a vibe. We got cousins, we got brothers and sisters, we got aunties and uncles--lot of the _unseen_ are Aunties, at least in _our_ Warrens. You’re still new, so you know…we gotta show you the ropes. A few more nights though, you’d _definitely_ be an Auntie.” he nodded, fully confident in his assessment.

“No Mommy or Daddy?” she teased, not at all offended. It reminded her of being back home, with her girls and boys and everything in between; the pang of homesickness and longing that that realization had just set up was mean, and made Vinny stop mid-step.

“Well Gary’s _definitely_ Daddy, but he’s not into guys so--cuz, you ok?” Klein turned around, having gotten a few steps ahead before realizing her steps had halted. He frowned; the other Nos stood stock still, cheeks twitching and fingers flexing. The expression on her face was one he’d seen more than a few times on more than a few faces…she was missing something with every fiber of her being. “Cuz? Talk it out. Whatever it is, just talk it out.”

“I’m ok.” Vinny said thickly, feeling the strange cold pressure in her face that took the place of a flush. “I just uh…sometimes things remind me of back home, and before, and uh…it hurts.” she managed to get out.

Klein nodded. “It’s ok, cuz. Those moments suck, and they…they take a long time to go away. Hell, I think even Gary still has’em every now and again and he’s been one longer than me and _definitely_ longer than you…it’ll be ok though, cuz. You stick with us, and…well we don’t replace who you used to know, but we’re pretty alright.”

Vinny snorted, trying to take care of the pressure and congested feeling in her face. “Yeah, no, everybody in the Warrens that I’ve talked to has been pretty cool…kinda glad I’ve been avoiding the shit out of Imalia. I just uh…still sorting out some of the uh…old life stuff. And it just hit me hard right then. I’m ok. We gotta get moving or we’re never gonna get there.” she rubbed her face roughly.

Klein fidgeted, pulling on his fingers before darting forward and pressing Vinny with an awkward hug, patting her back twice with a little too much force. He liked hugs, he’d just never been very good at _giving_ them.

It was a little rough, and fast, but the darting little hug did more to take the pressure out of her face than the furious passes she’d made with her hands. “Thanks, cuz.” she said softly.

“Don’t mention it. Let’s go get you to Eloise, she’ll cheer you up.” he said, slipping out of reach and crossing his arms to hug himself and hide his hands, in case being touched had set her off. There were a couple of Nos--mostly _Unseen_ \--that did not want to be touched.

“Lead on, cuz, you’re the leader.” Vinny reached out and lightly nudged Klein’s folded arms with the back of her hand lightly. She smiled and nodded. “Also since you know what’s going on…who’s Mitnick dating?” she asked, to push the conversation to easier topics.

Klein grinned, gold gleaming. “You will _never_ guess…” he started.

“I think I’m a little in love.” Vinny whispered to Klein as they followed Eloise around the side of the neat little house to the much larger building behind it. The ghoul had been waiting for them near the manhole, greeting both with a firm handshake and curt nod. There was sawdust all in her hair and her flannel shirt was missing a button; she had strong shoulders and a heavy stride.

“Wait till you see what she makes.” Klein replied confidently.

Eloise let them into the huge barn and turned on a light. “That’s the bed right there.” she said, pointing. “Don’t mind the mess, I’m trying to unload a couple of piece-- _Flynn_!” she barked.

A tall redheaded vampire with a beard stood frozen in the sudden light, holding an end table and looking very much caught out. “Now Eloise--” he started.

“Put it down.” she snapped immediately.

“That’s Flynn.” Klein whispered helpfully. “He’s a Toreador, but not that bad. Just don’t mention Pottery Barn.”

“...why?” Vinny asked as Eloise strode towards the vampire looking for all the world like a mom about to break bad.

“It makes him all twitchy and then he goes on for hours about how mass production and ‘fast consumption’ are a disgrace and we just don’t have time for that.” he explained.

Vinny nodded as the ghoul pulled the end table away from the vampire and told him something quietly but heatedly, judging from the firmness of her gestures and his pout. “Do we just…?”

“Oh yeah, if he gets out of hand, she’ll just put him in time-out.” Klein said. “She’s so good at what she does, that’s why he’s like…the pope to her Da Vinci, except they actually like each other.”

“Gotcha.” Vinny said thoughtfully as Eloise came back.

“Sorry,” the ghoul said, rolling her eyes, “he has trouble letting go of stuff, but if he _doesn’t let me make room_ I can’t make more.” she said, raising her voice to be sure the pouting vampire heard her clearly.

“I mean that’s fair, you should’ve seen my old apartment.” Vinny snorted. “But I’ve been told I’m wildly sentimental so…” she trailed off, shrugging.

Eloise snorted. “Nothing wrong with sentiment, I just need the storage space. Come on.” she gestured towards the sleigh bed. “Come take a look, see if this flips your switch.”

Once Vinny got to the bed, she gave it a full walk around, running her palms lightly over it. “It’s so pretty…you really made it yourself?” she asked.

The ghoul nodded, proudly beaming. “Yeah--I love working with wood; stuff that you think is so hard and unyielding, but with the right tools and patience you can mold it like _clay_. I’ve been at it for a while; this is my workshop and some of the storage we’re in right now.”

“Very cool. Meanwhile, the birdhouse I tried to make in wood shop in junior high was… _a disaster_.” Vinny snorted.

“If your shop teacher still had all their fingers, it doesn’t count and you should not feel bad.” Eloise replied immediately.

“Well…ok. If that’s your professional opinion, I gotta take it.” Vinny said cheerfully. “So…what would you recommend for paint?”

“ _Paint?!_ ” the vampire appeared at Eloise’s side suddenly, as if he’d broken out of being invisible. “You want to _paint_ this?! Are you insane, you want to cover up this grain--” he started to protest, but Eloise cut him off immediately.

“ _Flynn!_ If you don’t knock it off, you’re gonna have to go sit down.” Eloise said sharply.

“Look, Flynn, the grain _is_ beautiful, I agree painting would be an absolute sin, but…look, where I live is really damp, even if you _don’t_ have an active drip in your room.” Vinny pointed out, trying to explain without giving too much away about the Warrens. “That’s not _exactly_ the best situation for wood, but I need a bed and I _want_ a pretty one that I can afford…and Eloise’s pricing is fantastic.”

The Toreador opened his mouth to continue protesting, but then closed it with a thoughtful expression. “I…have to concede all of those points.” he said slowly and begrudgingly before sighing. “Oil-based, do you think?”

“Uh…I have some marine-grade stuff, but you know, a powder-coated metal might be better for the situation we’re talking about.” The ghoul said, addressing her patron and then Vinny.

Flynn frowned. “I didn’t think we were letting go of the metal work.”

“I was just thinking that neo-nouveau iron frame? You know, that you had done when you came back from New Orleans on a whim but never did anything with?” Eloise cocked her head. “If you want another, Greg could do it; he’s got the new oven to do the coating after all the welds and stuff--I’m just gonna show Vinny up in the loft. Would you look in the cabinet and see what colors are left of the marine grade stuff?”

“Can I nose too?” Klein asked.

“Yes, but keep your claws out of it--you know how paint makes you itch.” Eloise said.

He flashed her a golden grin and headed towards Flynn with a little skip in his step.

“Come on Vinny, follow me.” she said warmly. “We’ll go up those stairs into the loft, you can take a look.” she dropped her voice. “If you decide to go with the sleigh bed, we’ll paint it, don’t worry. Flynn’s protective but he’s not _hopelessly_ unreasonable.”

Vinny nodded, and the pair crossed the barn to get up into the loft to investigate.

“ _Wow_ …this is a lot of furniture. Really nice, but _a lot_.” Vinny couldn’t help but exclaim when Eloise turned on the light in the loft and revealed stacks upon stacks of end tables and coffee tables and headboards and foot boards and dressers and bureaus and even a couple of coffins that might’ve just been for Halloween but there was no telling.

“It’s kinda Flynn’s thing.” the ghoul replied, shrugging as she picked her way through the collection, leading Vinny. “I mean I don’t mind--he pays for me to get to do what I do and doesn’t make it _weird_.”

“Lucky.” Vinny peered around her. “Do you want some help moving stuff or…?”

“No, no, we’re good--I found it. Uh…I don’t remember if…” Eloise trailed off, muttering to herself.

Vinny didn’t interrupt the muttering, recognizing the need for it. Sometimes you just had to tally your inventory under your breath while you figured out where it all actually was. So she waited patiently, fighting the urge to open drawers and peek under some of the sheet-covered pieces to be nosy.

“Hey, can you pull that side table over here?” Eloise asked as she straightened, un-clipping the measuring tape from her belt.

“Uh…sure. What for?” Vinny asked as she moved to do as asked.

“So this bed doesn’t have a set-up for a box-spring, you’d just put your mattress right on it here,” she gestured to the bottom frame and its old-fashioned criss-cross of wires and braces, “so I’m trying to figure out how tall a mattress to recommend, but I dunno how tall you sit.” she explained.

“ _Oh_. Shoot, honey, why didn’t you just say so?” Vinny pushed the side table back to where it was. “Flat-foot or on toes or what?”

Eloise blinked. “Uh…whatever’s comfortable, I guess?” she said slowly, confused.

Vinny nodded, gave herself a little stretch and shimmy, then planted her feet and sank into wide-stance sitting position.

“... _wow_. I mean I know you’re a vampire and all but you made that look _so_ easy.” Eloise said; the Nos _had_ made it look _ridiculously_ easy, like there was an invisible chair right there. And she looked so sure and steady, it was honestly kind of attractive.

“It’s been a little while but I used to do burlesque. Lots of chair choreography, _lots_ of leg days at the gym.” Vinny said cheerfully. “Honestly the only vampiric thing about this right now is that my quads aren’t complaining I didn’t stretch first.”

“Clearly you didn’t skip a single day.” Eloise replied, measuring from the ground to the Nos’ hip and blushing a little at the cheeky grin the Nos turned on her.

“Nope. So what’s the rec, Eloise? Or can I call you El?” Vinny asked. Everyone else had, but it never hurt to ask.

“Oh--” Eloise was a little taken aback. She was used to having her name shortened more often than not, and honestly didn’t think too much about it when it happened. “El is fine; or Eloise. Whichever. Just uh…yeah, El is fine.” she fumbled. “Ok, you can relax. You want to go with this bed?”

“It’s as pretty as the other one,” Vinny said as she straightened up, “if that’s your rec and the price offer’s still good, I’d love to take this one.”

Eloise nodded. “Great. Let me just dig out all the pieces, we’ll get it out of the loft, and she’s all yours, for the cost of whatever’s in your pockets right now.”

Vinny flashed her dueling thumbs up. “Making my night--but I think you might want more than that, there’s not much in my pockets right now.”

“I mean if it’s a magic ring that lets me rule over all, I’d say it’s a fair exchange.” Eloise joked.

Vinny snorted. “I _wish_. Right now all I got in my pocket is an old punch card for Subway and some Juicy-Fruit gum; Klein’s holding my bag with the actual cash in it.”

“I like sandwiches and gum.” the ghoul replied.

“...are…are you being serious?” Vinny asked, eyebrow raised.

“When I say that Flynn pays for me to be able to do what I want, I mean _he pays for me to be able to do what I want_. I do it so I can be better at it, I don’t have to hustle anymore.” Eloise explained slowly.

“Well… _damn_. Ok, one punch card and one small pack of gum for you, one kick-ass bed for me.” Vinny said as she reached into her pants pocket to pull out the aforementioned payment.

“Oh nice, I only need one more to get the freebie.” Eloise grinned as she checked the card, opened the gum to have a piece, and then dropped both into her shirt pocket. “Alright, let’s wrangle this beast out of the loft.”

“Just tell me where to be and how to help.” Vinny said with an affirmative nod.

It was a faster trip back to the Warrens, even with the bed, because Eloise and Flynn were kind enough to load up Eloise’s battered delivery van with the pieces and take it and the two Nos to the nearest water works station. For that, Vinny was _extremely_ grateful. She still needed a mattress for it, but at least she and Klein could get it to her space in the Warrens and she could get it set up where she wanted well before the sunrise alarm went off. Then, she could wander into Mitnick’s room and egg him on while he wreaked honking havoc in a lovely village…and that would be a good night’s work for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to @VampireFurry in the VTMB chat for allowing me to use their fantastic Toreador and his ghoul for a bit of fun and cameo purposes :D


	6. Nos, Grant Me the Serenity

A few nights after acquiring the bed (and the mattress, a dresser, and a mismatched pair of side-tables from the place-best-not-mentioned-to-Flynn), Vinny was back in the Warrens to enjoy what was essentially a night off. The hunt for the magic box was thoroughly stalled, and Beckett had wandered off to who-knew-where with a cheeky ‘I’ll be back when something _interesting_ happens’, and there didn’t seem to be much else His Royal Blondness could think to send her off to do. She was looking forward to having time to just _be_ in the Warrens, and work on getting her place to suitable levels of _fabulous_.

There was also the matter that had so far just been a gleam in her mind’s eye: paying Isaac’s _in_ hospitality back in spades. She’d been a vampire long enough to know it was probably one of her worst ideas (to date), but the more she had to trawl around Hollywood for everybody and their Sire, the more rankled she got and the brighter the gleam grew. The few glimpses she got while inside and on her way to Isaac’s office had given her a decent idea of the floor plan--and it helped that it was one room and a circular display order--but she had not _yet_ figured out how to do it without being seen. And _that_ was going to be the key to the whole thing.

Vinny took herself to Klein’s door, tiptoeing past the ‘door of doom’; she still hadn’t actually _met_ Imalia in a social way, but had at last been insulted by the poorly-adjusted Nos earlier. Still, one grating ‘stupid fat bitch’ was more than enough, especially on a sweet rare night off. So Vinny tiptoed and knocked lightly on Klein’s door before opening it and poking her head in. “You around, cuz? And can I come in?”

Klein was lounging in a sea of bean bags, a rat resting comfortably on his stomach and a copy of DC Bombshells in his hand. “Sure cuz, make yourself at home but watch where you step--Ditzy and Mitzy got in a fight so Mitzy’s in her ball running off the rage.” he petted the rat lightly.

“Aw, not again!” Vinny exclaimed as she slipped in, eyes down to indeed watch her step.

“It’s sorta my fault; food’s running low so I _thought_ I’d try feeding them together again. Confirmed, it’s _always_ a bad mistake.” he said mournfully.

Finding her way through the clothes and toys and comics and pet accessories was a bit of a trial, but Vinny managed to get to the edge of the beanbag sea and took a seat. “You want me to hit up a pet store again?” she asked.

“No, no--I mean if you were going out tonight, I’d say get a small bag? But I ordered some online and Mitnick’s girlfriend is coming by with our shipped stuff tomorrow night; or that’s what she said.” he explained. The rat sitting on him snuffed the air, then began to toddle her way to where Vinny sat. “What a little traitor!” Klein shook his head even as a crooked grin flashed gold.

“She just heard me offer food, that’s all.” Vinny snorted as the rat butted under her hand and curled up underneath it. “Either that or it’s the sawdust smell--more furniture.” she explained. “Whatcha reading?”

“DC Bombshells; one of the best versions of Black Canary _ever_.” he declared. “I’d kill for four entire series with just this version of her.”

“Oh yeah?” Vinny didn’t really read comics, but judging from the piles of books (some sadly water-damaged), Klein was a _big_ fan.

“Yeah--she’s fabulous to the nth degree, highly relatable and _super_ badass.” he beamed wide and gleaming. “Like the whole series is really good but she’s the best part, even though her part is really small.”

“Ditzy here a fan?” Vinny teased.

“Nah, she likes the color green.” he replied. “And Mitzy only likes comics for nesting, so there’s no accounting for taste between them sometimes.”

Vinny chuckled. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want me to go topside for you?” she asked, before addressing the rat dozing under her hand. “Can’t have you being hangry bitches.”

“It’s alright cuz, really. We can get through tonight, and I’m sure the Rainbow Malk will come through, she always does. She’s good Nos support.”

“Mitnick certainly thinks so.” Vinny teased, dropping her voice. Like so many things in a small group, the identity of Mitnick’s girlfriend was a generally known secret. She didn’t understand exactly _why_ it wasn’t openly stated, if Gary’s views on dating around were what they were; it probably had something more to do with the overarching vampire politics, or some decree out of Lacroix that she wasn’t yet privy to.

“I’ve met with her before. She uh…she kinda got a little more of the Malkavian,” Klein fumbled for a word and settled for waggling his fingers and eyebrows to convey--if nothing else--that special brand of Malkavian peculiarity, “but she’s really nice--works for Lacroix, but not like you have to. I mean maybe, I dunno.”

“Is she a redhead? There’s a Malkavian redhead that’s sometimes around when Lacroix’s dishing out the orders for the night.” Vinny stretched, earning a discontented squeak from the rat for moving her hand.

“Probably, there aren’t too many Malkavians around the area to start with, and the couple that I do know aren’t generally hanging around Lacroix or the Cam.” he said with a shrug.

“Well she doesn’t cut me dirty looks when I walk in.” Vinny half-teased. That was the truth; the redhead who was usually in some kind of Chanel kept mostly mum, but if Lacroix’s back was to them, she’d sometimes share a small smile or a look of exasperation with Vinny.

“That’s _probably_ her then, you know it’s a short list of people who aren’t assholes.” Klein closed the book and wiggled out of his beanbag waller, and went to a plastic bin on the floor. He pulled a box of granola from it and shook it. “Ok girls, c’mon, c’mon.” he cooed. “Come have a snack and make up.”

Vinny lifted her feet to keep out of the way; something was rattling around at the edges of the room, and she didn’t want to catch a hamster ball to the ankle.

Once the girls were back in their cage and contentedly munching, Klein belly-flopped back onto his favorite spot in the beanbag sea. “So what brings you by, cuz?”

“ _Well_ , I got another Nos question.” Vinny said.

“Well I got another Nos answer!” he replied cheerfully.

“I should sincerely hope so.” Vinny said drily, before breaking out in a grin.

Klein laughed, clapping his hands. “ _That_ is why I like you cuz, you _get_ it.” he rolled onto his back, looking at her expectantly from the upside down position. “Hit me with it, what do you wanna know?”

“Ok, so you know that trick we can do? The uh, the being invisible thing?” She started.

He laughed again. “Yeah, yeah--technically it’s called a _discipline_. Everybody’s got’em, some are different from others. The invisible thing’s called ‘ _obfuscate_ ’; we can do it, the Malks can do it…not sure who else around here can do it, but that doesn’t matter right now, does it?”

“Thanks for the info dump.” Vinny said sincerely. “Are uh…are you any good at it?”

“I can get by, but I’m no expert. You want an expert, you talk to one of the _Unseen_. It’s in the name and all.” he shrugged. “Why, what’s up?”

Vinny hesitated before answering. “Let’s just say, for the sake of plausible deniability, I need to get better at it to act on a bad idea that you don’t need to know the fine points of because of the whole ‘plausible deniability’ thing.”

Klein struggled to sit up; that was the thing about beanbags, they cut _way_ down on dramatic movements. Once he finally got upright and faced the right way, he answered. “Cuz, you got me real curious now…but I appreciate the justification. _Very_ Nos of you.” he grinned.

“Well, I’m trying.”

He chuckled. “Uh…since I don’t have any idea why you wanna get better at it, I’m just going to assume it’s work-related and that’s that…like I said, I get by, but uh… _you_ want to talk to one of the _Unseen_.”

“And I do that how?” Vinny asked, wiggling to sit up better.

“Same as anybody else, you gotta get somebody’s attention, invite them in. A lot of the _Unseen_ , they…they sort of _forget_ how to do the social thing.” he scratched his chin. “You could try Auntie Serenity, she’s pretty social compared to a lot of the other aunties and uncles, once you get her to talk to you.”

“Ok…still the same question.” Vinny pressed.

“Yeah, yeah. Um…when I want to hit her up and she hasn’t already come around, I just put a note on my door? Just saying ‘hey, can we talk, come on in, make yourself comfortable’, that kind of thing. Maybe tell her that I’m the one that told you who and how, cuz we get along pretty well.” he shrugged. “She likes blues and jazz--like the old stuff. I know if I put on some Ella that she’ll be in _real_ quick.”

“Thanks Klein, I appreciate the pointers. Really.” Vinny replied.

He flashed a thumbs up. “Somebody’s got to. You’re doing ok, and it’ll only get better the longer you’re around.”

“Aw, _Klein_ ; be still my undead heart.” she teased, even though she was genuinely touched. “You _sure_ you and the girls are gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. If not, I’ll let you know and owe you one. Cross my gold.” he winked.

Vinny nodded, managing to get up from the beanbags with more success than grace. “Hey, _incidentally_ …how do you get them?” she gestured to her own mouth.

“I make’em myself! Got a little foundry pot, some jewelry tools, a mold and cast--can’t exactly go to the dentist in _this_ state, ya know.” Klein shrugged. “And I like making, so it works out. I’m kinda the jewelry guy down here.”

Vinny cocked her head.

“I’ll show you!” he said eagerly, kicking his legs to get up and then loping to a corner of the room just past the rat cage, where a plastic sheet hung. Klein pulled it back, revealing a little workspace and more pliers than one might think needed to exist. There were old mayo jars full of teeth and pieces of jewelry, and broken mannequin parts wearing what were obviously in-process pieces.

“Oh shit…” Vinny picked her way over to look. Behind the plastic sheet, the floor was clean. The whole work area was an island of organized chaos compared to the more nest-like chaos of the rest of Klein’s room. “Oh this is _so_ cool!”

Klein beamed. “Thanks! If you decide you wanna get more decoration going, I’m your guy! Got a knack and the tools for making holes.” he said cheerfully.

Vinny nodded thoughtfully. “Good to know…not right now, but that is _good_ to know.” she brushed his arm lightly with the back of her hand. “Thanks for showing.”

He nodded, carefully pulling the plastic sheet back into place. “If I’m not out watching the tunnels or the water, catch me behind the curtain like my name’s Oz, cuz.”

“Maybe put up a sign, I wouldn’t wanna startle you when you’re really in the _zone_.” Vinny suggested.

“Nah, you can usually smell it. Smelting isn’t a _bad_ smell but you can definitely tell when it’s happening.” he said reassuringly. “Appreciate you though, cuz.”

She nodded. “I gotta start putting some more furniture together, cuz. I get the place in decent shape with someplace to sit besides the floor, stick your head in, yeah?”

Klein gave her a wide, gleaming grin. “Don’t gotta offer twice, cuz. Catch me there even without a new seat though, if Imalia starts getting too wild.”

Vinny nodded in understanding. “Hopefully she calms down, but… _yeah_.” she brushed her hand against Klein’s arm again. He responded by patting her back a little too hard, and with that she slipped out of his space to go back to her own.

The side tables were an easy project, but it was another couple of nights before Vinny had enough pre-dawn time to tackle the dresser…and it was _not_ going well. There were pieces scattered all around her, and grease from the nuts and screws stained her shorts. Even worse (and not yet realized), the teeny tiny allen wrench had wandered off, as teeny tiny allen wrenches do when furniture construction is under way.

“Fuck mothering fuck _fuck_ where is--why are you like this, you are the _worst_ instructions ever!” she told the booklet on her lap, trying not to tear it as she flipped back and forth between pages. “Who wrote you? Who thought _you_ were good instructions?” Vinny demanded in frustration as she reached for where the teeny tiny allen wrench _used_ to be. “Oh where in the fuckety fucking fuck _now_?!” In her frantic search for the tool, Vinny missed the door to her room opening and closing, and faint steps crossing the stony floor. When the teeny tiny allen wrench dropped onto the instruction booklet on her lap, Vinny startled. “Oh--oh thank crap, really app--” she turned her head, expecting to see Klein’s grin or even Mitnick’s shy bemused smirk. “Uh… _yellow_?”

“My favorite color.” the reply was soft, like autumn leaves dragging along asphalt in a lonely breeze. “You invited me in.”

Vinny blinked, agitation temporarily lulled as she focused on feeling out the room. It was hard to say whether that was an actual talent (or _Discipline_ , technically), or if it was just one of those Nos things, but there was an actual _feel_ when someone else was around, invisible or otherwise. “Serenity?” she said slowly, just barely feeling that tingle on the back of her neck that suggested she was being watched.

“Yes. You invited me.” the voice repeated.

“Oh, _oh_ , yeah--hey Auntie, sorry. This dresser is pissing me right the fuck off--I’m Vinny by the way--make yourself comfortable.” she gestured vaguely. “Edith Piaf ok?”

“ _Oh_ I enjoy her. You play her often, when you’re here.” the voice replied. The barely-there footsteps moved slightly, and the seat on the leopard-print wing-back chair sunk down. “It’s going to be quite cosy in here, when you find all that you want.”

“Yup, that’s the plan! Takes time to get that balance between classy and tacky, but if there’s one thing I got enough of, it’s _time_.” Vinny snorted. “Just don’t mind me losing my mind here.”

There was a chuckle, a little louder than the spoken words, but it had that same autumnal scraping quality. “I won’t.”

Vinny flashed the room a thumbs up, and got back to struggling with the dresser.

The dresser was finally standing on its own and Vinny had moved on to building the drawers before Serenity finally spoke up again. “You talk to yourself a lot, did you know that?”

“Huh? Oh--yeah. I’m a mutterer. Drove my mother _nuts_ when I was a kid.” Vinny shrugged. “But I was a lonely only, and noise makes me feel less lonely usually.” she said.

“Why do you want to strengthen your discipline, then? It can be lonely this way too.” Serenity pointed out.

Vinny grinned. “Talked to Klein first before you came in, huh?”

“Of course.”

The cushion on the seat shifted a little, and that was Vinny’s only hint that the other Nos was there. “ _Well_ uh…can we just leave it at ‘I’m not great at it and it would be handy for things’ and leave it at that?” she asked, hopeful.

“I’m afraid not.”

Vinny sucked her teeth and sighed, then looked behind her.

“There’s only you and me in here.” Serenity pointed out.

“No, I got that, I was just making sure the door was closed, because…ok. If we talk in _hypotheticals_ , is that ok?”

“As long as your honesty isn’t hypothetical.” Serenity said pointedly.

Vinny took a deep breath. “Ok, total honesty, but _hypothetical idea_ : …I _really_ want to rob the baron of Hollywood.”

Serenity gasped, a sharp intake that echoed in the space like a coin dropped into a deep well. “You _do_ understand that’s a terrible hypothetical idea, right? Politically, vampirically…it is the gallery incident with deadlier consequences.”

“First off, the gallery thing is not _totally_ my fault: that was early in my nights, and I didn’t _know_ it was Therese’s event. A vampire older than me told me to do it and I’d been around long enough to know that I had to.” Vinny explained sharply; she _still_ felt like an asshole about that, even if she’d left the charity box untouched. “Secondly, this isn’t…this isn’t a greed thing. It’s a…Isaac deserves this to happen, _he_ put it out in the universe.” Even to her own ears, that didn’t make sense. “I mean--”

“Is this idea for profit? Do you think somehow it would…improve your lot here, as it’s said?” Serenity demanded.

Vinny rubbed her temples. “No. _No_. Look…” she took a deep breath. “It’s petty, ok, I know it’s petty. But Isaac sat his pompous ass right on my last nerve and snapped it.” Vinny shook her head, and explained to the chair and its _Unseen_ occupant every insult and ounce of scorn the baron saw fit to dole out. It began with the accusations of theft and continued on a winding, condescending path concerning his Childer, his ghoul, _his city_ , and his massive grating ego. “…and I don’t know any other way to really get at him than to try and hit him at home--he put that out in the universe to be ugly, may as well make it so.” she finished.

Serenity listened to the diatribe quietly (as was her nature, but also to judge the animated fledgling). The other Nos bubbled over with energy, gesticulating wildly, emotions broadcast loud and clear on her face; everything from disgust to indignation to sympathy (mostly for Ash and even a little for the overworked Romero). None of it surprised her; Isaac was the epitome of unchanging. She shook her head. “I can’t say I hate the idea.” she said slowly. “Isaac never changes…even when I knew him, he could be just as cutting and unkind.”

Vinny, of course, didn’t see the exasperated head shake. “You know Isaac? I mean like know-know and not know-of?” she asked.

“Oh yes…but it’s old news, gossip decades out of date that doesn’t change things.” Serenity replied.

There was something sad in the autumnal rustle coming from the chair. “I’m always down for gossip; out-of-date or not, it never gets _old_.” Vinny said with a grin. “My gran used to give me the dish on shit that went down when she was a machinist back in the second world war over cribbage, when I was a kid? It was _great_.”

Serenity chuckled. “Well…you’ll tell me if I’m boring you?”

“I won’t.” Vinny said frankly. “That’d be rude, but also I’m betting this is gonna be salacious as fuck and I’m here for that.” she said cheerfully.

The unseen Nos couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well…Hollywood’s always had a thick layer of scum just under the glitter…” she agreed. “And Isaac is certainly one of the biggest toads in the pond…” she began.

“He said that to you. He _actually_ said that to you?!” Vinny demanded, indignant. “And you didn’t punch him right in his withered nuts right then and there?!”

“Isaac _is_ very cruel when he’s pressed. Don’t forget that.” Serenity cautioned. “I wanted to claw his eyes out but…I wasn’t like you, Vinny, I’m not even sure I could do it now. He said that to me and I left his office and went right to the bar.” she shrugged, for her own benefit. “I would have forgiven the infidelities, and the lacking pay, but not _that_ …we might even have become friends in the end, if it had just been the infidelities and the poor pay and the lacking honesty. But Isaac doesn’t _have_ friends, he has minions and hangers-on and people who owe him.” she said bitterly.

“I know this is like…some sixty years too late or better, but I am _so_ sorry.” Vinny said sincerely. “What an absolute _asshole_.” she couldn’t help but hiss.

“That doesn’t dissuade you, does it?” Serenity asked as she watched the younger Nos fit the last drawer in place. “That looks lovely.” she added.

“It could use some sprucing up, but it’ll do for now--and it really doesn’t. It just makes me madder and makes me want to _really_ rob the shit out of him. Just..you don’t _treat_ people that way, I don’t give a fuck who you think you are.” Vinny insisted.

Serenity pursed her lips, and circled a spot on the seat with her finger idly. Like a lot of the other Nos, she did a fair bit of scraping to knock the worst of the sharpness off her nails, and she had the years behind her touch to keep the fabric safe. “I’m not ready to commit to anything concrete…since it was a hypothetical proposition to begin with.” she began. “I hope that doesn’t put you off us getting to know each other.”

“No, no. Look, I admit it’s probably my dumbest idea to-date and I may have to find some other way of satisfying my pettiness.” Vinny replied. “I mean, you’ve been at this longer than I have, and you _definitely_ know.” She shrugged, then went to work wrangling the dresser into place. There was a notch in the rock--not nearly as big as the space Klein had put his workshop in, but big enough--that the dresser should, with a little finessing, slot right in. That way she’d have storage and floor space left…at least that was the _plan_ , but the dresser was a little deeper than she’d counted on. “Well damn…I guess that’s not too bad, what do you think?” she asked the chair.

The nook was to the outside of the room, and the few inches of dresser still sticking out wouldn’t pose much of a problem, Serenity thought. “That works, I think, if you weren’t inclined to turn it into a reading spot.”

“Ceiling’s a little low for my taste there, I got a thing about that.” Vinny shrugged. “I think once I put a little flair on it, it’ll look real good right there.”

“What were you thinking of doing?”

Vinny grinned. “ _Glitter_ \--I saw this tutorial on Pinterest--do not judge me, I’m a sucker and I know it--and it looks _so cool_.” she pulled out her phone. “I’ll show you!” she added eagerly, moving towards the chair and perching on the arm. There was a brush against her thigh, and she was relatively sure she’d nearly accidentally sat on the other Nos. “Sorry.”

“All is well.” Serenity replied; she’d been moving her arm out of the way when Vinny started to sit. She touched the younger Nos’ arm lightly to get the phone in a more comfortable viewing position, and settled in to watch the tutorial. It wasn’t particularly complicated, or in truth that special, but the final piece did look quite unique and it was nice when the younger Nossies in the Warrens wanted to share the world around them. “That’s definitely suited to you, you’re quite bold.”

“And tacky. I embrace it; call it the ‘Dolly Parton’ principle: look as trashy as you can afford and like to, and go about being badass.” Vinny replied.

“Could we watch another video? That one below it looks _quite_ interesting.” Serenity touched her wrist lightly, and was pleased to see no flinch from the other Nos.

“Absolutely we can; getting ideas for your space?”

“Maybe.” Serenity left it at that. In all honesty, she just wanted to extend the social time. At some point it would have to end, because of duties or dawns or some other such thing; she hoped that the welcome remained, even if she declined to assist in the still-currently-hypothetical scheme against Isaac. It was, after all, nice to be welcomed anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's interested in Serenity's little history with Isaac, say so! I've got it mapped out in my head enough that it could be a little separate story <3


	7. The Sheriff's Big Night Out

Serenity returned while Vinny was struggling to assemble a plush office chair. “Have you considered going with pre-assembled pieces?” the unseen Nos suggested wryly as she stepped carefully around the scatter of parts and frustration to sit again in the leopard-print wingback chair. “It might save you some frustration.”

“Boxes are easier to move and also it wouldn’t _save_ me frustration, you’d just hear me cussing from the Office Depot in Santa Monica to here trying to wheel the damn thing over.” Vinny pointed out. “Which _might_ be funnier but would definitely probably result in at least two Masquerade violation thingies.”

The other Nos snorted, amused. “You’ve really got to do something about your stress levels dear, it’s not healthy.”

“I mean you’re not _wrong_ \--” Vinny started, but was interrupted by her phone. “No... _no no no no_ no no damn.” she sighed, picking it out from under the instruction booklet. “Well my night’s just _shot_.” she said grumpily, shaking her head.

“Your benevolent sponsor lord has summoned you?” Serenity said drily.

“ _Yup_. I dunno when I’ll be back in, but you’re welcome to hang out anyway. _Hopefully_ ,” Vinny crossed her fingers as she moved towards the dresser, “this isn’t anything major and it doesn’t eat my whole night, but there’s no telling.” she pulled clothes out of the dresser. “Uh, will this bother you?”

“Dear, it wouldn’t be anything I haven’t seen in my own mirror once upon a time.” Serenity said wryly.

“Just a courtesy.” Vinny replied before changing. Claws made quick-changing a _lot_ harder! But she managed. “Wish me luck it’s not an all-night thing.” she said.

“Good luck, cousin.” Serenity said warmly.

“Thanks Auntie.” Vinny gave the room a casual wave and slipped out.

Serenity looked at the abandoned project on the floor and shook her head. The younger Nos probably wouldn’t _hate_ coming back to the chair in one piece, and it would give her a reason to be around; she wasn’t yet sure if Vinny had the same kind of open door policy Klein did.

When Vinny got to the top of the tower, the Sheriff was waiting for her outside the doors to Lacroix’s office _._ The upside of that was that she could get her instructions for the night with a minimum of fluff. The downside was…less easy to describe. The Sheriff was _certainly_ an intimidating figure, but he didn’t peacock like a gym bro so it wasn’t an _obnoxious_ intimidation? Again, it was incredibly hard to describe the Sheriff.

“Evenin’--just you and me tonight?” Vinny said by way of greeting.

The Sheriff held out a folded piece of paper to her, face stony and neutral as ever.

She took it. “I’ve been meaning to ask, do you _ever_ get a night off?”

He raised an eyebrow, watching the fledgling look at her instructions. It had been some years since one of the youngers attempted to make conversation, and he wasn’t sure if this instance was welcome or not.

“Look, I get it, full-time job. But you get a night off, hit me up! We’ll go to the Asylum--or Confessions. Actually Confessions would probably be better, it’s roomier--the Asylum can get a little claustrophobic, especially when it gets to jumping.” Vinny rambled, looking at the to-do list before tucking it in her pocket.

The Sheriff frowned, not the least bit amused. He pursed his lips, and he was leaning more towards the sudden burst of conversation unwelcome indeed.

“What? Look, we work together--ok I mean not _together_ -together but for the same guy, may as well at least be civilly acquainted.” she replied, wondering if the Sheriff ever spoke, had ever spoken, or if this level of mutism was some clan trait she didn’t know about.

He narrowed his eyes, studying the bubbly fledgling; instincts honed over the years gave him a pretty good instinct for what was a honey-pot, what was a scam, and what was misguided-but-genuine attempted outreach. This one wore her expressions easily and loudly, often toeing the line of disrespect when Sebastian spoke. It was most likely _not_ a scam. The Sheriff gestured towards the door behind her with a flicking motion.

“I know, I know, get going. Just _think_ on it.” Vinny replied, shrugging. “And have a good night.” she turned away to go and get a jump on the to-do list. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to race the sun back to the Warrens, and with a little bit _more_ luck there’d even be time to finish putting the chair together…the desk would just have to keep waiting.

The Sheriff watched her go and waited for the Malkavian to leave the office with her own marching orders before going in. Sebastian had reached a point of security where he was willing to meet with the underlings without his ‘shadow’, but some primogen were due to meet and the Ventrue did like his show of borrowed strength.

Sebastian was readjusting his tie and fixing his collar when the Sheriff entered. “Addled or not, that girl has a masseurs’ hands.” he said, preening a bit longer before turning away from the mirror. “Were the marching orders delivered?”

The Sheriff nodded, and pulled out his phone and stylus to further the conversation. ****Fledgling invited me out to the club nearby, if I had a “night off”. Declined.****

“...she invited you out? _Socially_?” Sebastian’s confused look bounced from the message on his phone to the Sheriff’s face. “I don’t mean this to be unkind, but _what is wrong with her_?” he demanded.

The Sheriff shrugged. ****By most accounts, the fledgling is just “friendly”. The only Kindred who have complaint of her is Isaac, and that is more likely than not her Clan over her behavior within the barony.****

“ _Friendly?_ ” Sebastian repeated, incredulous. “What is it with Nosferatu and you?” he asked; once upon a time, when the pair had first arrived in LA, the Nosferatu primogen had _apparently_ suggested a trip for all to Vesuvius and had seemed both eager and sincere about the idea. “Actually, wait,” Sebastian was struck by a sudden idea, “take her up on the offer.” he said.

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow, _extremely_ skeptical. ****Why?****

“Because she’s nearly Caitiff and spends _far_ too much time above ground for a Nosferatu. So go, and see how she’s avoiding violating the Masquerade…or to handle it, if she’s not.” Sebastian replied. “Consider it a bit of undercover work; God knows the Anarchs do it often enough.” he said bitterly.

The Sheriff suppressed a deep sigh. He didn’t see the point of it; the fledgling was, by all accounts, operating within the constraints of the Masquerade--often in creative fashions. How she acted and with whom wasn’t any concern of his as long as she did as was asked when she was asked. He chalked it up to a sudden welling of paranoia; Sebastian had been having those more often as the stress of trying to wrangle LA back into Camarilla hands after so long. ****Fine. What night?****

“I’ve got to check the scheduled meetings; then you’ll tell the fledgling and do your job.” Sebastian said airily.

The Sheriff didn’t respond, although inside he was rolling his eyes. Nights off were few and far between, had been for years, and were therefore precious indeed…and giving one up to settle a non-issue was not his idea of a good time. But for the time being, his duty was to serve Sebastian, however whimsical the Ventrue got.

A few nights after that, Vinny was struggling with another Office Depot special, under the bemused watchful eye of Serenity.

“To your left dear. No, the other left, under your knee-- _there_ , dear.” Serenity chuckled, watching the younger Nos pat around in search of the screwdriver that had rolled away from its initial resting place. “How _did_ you manage, when you were mortal?”

“About the same, but maybe with less cussing. Or more. Honestly, once everything is together, I don’t swap it out unless it breaks or what I find is just _to die for_.” Vinny replied. “That is why I’m a huge fan of kit-bashing and that kind of thing.”

“Well, I can’t argue with the results, and it _is_ a nice way to spend an evening.” Serenity conceded as an obnoxious pop song rang out. “I do believe that’s your phone, dear.”

Vinny groaned. “Of _course,_ because it’s been like twenty minutes since I got up.” Scrambling and patting along the stony floor, she found the phone under the plastic wrapping from the nuts and bolts.

Serenity watched a surprised expression bloom. “Good news?” she asked.

“Um…sorta?” Vinny replied as she carefully typed out a reply. “Last time I ran into the big guy--you know, Lacroix’s big guy bodyguard?--I told him when he had a night off to text me, we’d go to the club.” her face was screwed up in concentration; Mitnick had already gotten her a replacement for the first phone her claws and gravity had mangled, and she was _trying_ to make the one in her hands last a bit longer.

“You did _what_ now, dear?” Serenity was startled, to say the least. The mute, hulking shadow behind Lacroix at almost every step was as unlikely a party companion as a talking chifferobe. “How did you live even this long without getting mauled by something you were trying to pet?”

Vinny snorted. “Dumb luck--and also, look, there _is_ a logic to my madness, ok?” she started as she got up from the chaos of construction. “We work for the same guy, we make regular contact with all the back-and-forth bullshit, I have to do, yeah?” she started digging through the dresser for something to wear.

“Ok?” Serenity said slowly.

“So we’re like…work acquaintances, right? _So_ I figure, we go out one evening, hang out a little, either it’ll be the start of an unlikely friendship _or_ we’ll survive, and we can both say that the other isn’t _that_ bad to be around.” she explained. “I need more fishnet stuff…” Vinny murmured as she dug around.

“I’m not quite following your logic, dear.”

“Call it ‘hedging my bets’,” Vinny replied, “for when there may come a time that I need a teensy favor, and it’s a lot easier to get a favor from somebody who at the very least tolerates your existence versus somebody who barely knows you exist.”

Serenity snorted. “How conniving; we’ll make a decent Nossie of you yet.”

She shrugged, opening a shoe box full of lipsticks. At some point, she was _really_ going to have to get on organizing the growing cosmetic collection in a more _aesthetic_ way. “I did the same thing back when I was human too--Ruby Woo or Violet Violence, do you think?” Vinny asked, holding up the lip color.

“I’m always partial to a good red, dear.” Serenity shook her head, amused. She wondered how deep the streak of good humor went with the younger Nos; would she be as amiable in fifty years, or would it started to gain a bitter-sharp edge like Gary? “What club will you be dragging the great behemoth to?”

“Confessions--more space in there. And honestly he’s not _that_ big up close. I mean tall, and built like a goddamn brick duplex, but a lot of that bulk is the coat.” Vinny replied. “I’m almost ninety percent sure it’s at least partially bullet-proof.” She squatted down to get face-to-face with the small mirror on top of the dresser, to better see while she painted her lips.

“Possibly; being shot _does_ hurt.” Serenity conceded. “Have you been to this club before?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a silent partner in it and everything! Venus is pretty chill; she thinks I’m just mad into body mods and plastic surgery.” Vinny said, before opening a different drawer to sort through masks and glasses and goggles. “Of course, it’s a lot easier to not ask questions at night.”

“This is true.” Serenity conceded. “Do have fun dear, but take care?”

“Always do.” Vinny reassured her. “I’ll catch you up on how it goes when I get back.” she grabbed a second pair of glasses and tucked them into a little bat-shaped backpack; along with the glasses went a little bottle of perfume, some chap stick and the lipstick, and a pair of brass knuckles. Those would be easier to get inside than the butterfly knife Mitnick had so kindly traded over for a library card.

“I’ll be waiting here, I’m _very_ curious.” Serenity replied.

Vinny flashed the room a thumbs-up. “Also _do not_ feel obligated to put the desk together, I really can manage it.”

“I like having something to do. And if you’re genuinely worried, rest assured I’ve started a tab of favors you owe me.” the older _Unseen_ Nos teased.

“Can’t argue with that logic.” Vinny said, shrugging. “But really, _don’t_ feel like you _have_ to; keeping me company’s just as good.”

Serenity smiled, warmed. The bubbly Nos might go sharp and bitter as the years wore on, but she would treasure this cheerful beginning. “Go. Have fun, bring me back some good gossip.”

Vinny waved to the room and slipped away. If absolutely nothing else, the night might make for a funny story to tell later on…provided she survived.

The Sheriff was waiting for her outside of Lacroix’s tower, as silently menacing and leather-clad as ever. He watched the fledgling step out of the cab, squinting in appraisal of her above-ground wear; the neon blue bobbed wig was certainly a statement piece, but the cloth mask and its script font ****Bite Me**** were an amusing way to hide her clan’s signature enamel. The rest of the outfit was not much to speak of; a hodgepodge of tatters and fishnet and black that were generally appropriate for the establishment they would be going to. “Go have a night off, I’ll text you if some shit goes down.” The Sheriff heard her say to the Kindred behind the wheel. Either she was too young to find him as disconcerting as others did (the Malkavian was _particularly_ skittish around him), or the pair had worked out an uneasy accord. The Sheriff waited, hands in his pockets, for the Nosferatu fledgling to approach.

“Well, don’t you look…tall.” Vinny said as she closed the space between them. “Then again, I suppose shopping a pain in the ass in your dimensions.”

He made a noncommittal grunt.

“I used to dance with a queen, she wasn’t as tall as you but she had the same shoulder set? Never needed padding there but anything that was supposed to go across and down had to get custom fit.” Vinny shrugged. “Anyway, I brought you something,” she pulled the spare set of sunglasses out of her bag and reached up to put them on the Sheriff’s face without thinking.

The Sheriff snarled, a deep and ominous rumble that startled a couple walking past the vampire pair. He did not, however, move to strike the fledgling--in hindsight, he could say it was for the sake of the Masquerade that he did not take her head off, but in the moment? In that moment, there wasn’t a threat to respond to, just an immediate irritation.

“What? Right, personal space, I get it.” Vinny replied, a little startled but still in good humor. “Look, don’t take this personally, but you glow a little too much here,” she gestured to her eyes, “and I’ve already gotten yelled at for not watchin’ that shit myself. Besides, I am completely positive this will look good on you.”

He frowned, un-amused but settling back into his general state of intimidating aloofness. The Sheriff took the glasses from the fledgling slowly, inspecting them before putting them on.

“And of course, I was right. I know my accessories.” Vinny said, pulling a compact out of her bag to open it and prove her point; hopefully he wasn’t in a clan that couldn’t see their reflections…although she was curious as to what that would actually look (or not look) like.

The Sheriff shook his head, rolling his eyes and reaching to close the compact carefully without crushing it or the fledgling’s fingers. Then he gestured in the general direction they should go.

“Right, the night is young and so am I.” Vinny said, stowing her compact. “I dunno if you are; are you?” She asked as the pair turned in the generally right direction and began to walk.

He shook his head, already wishing they’d taken the cab. Matching his pace to anyone with a shorter stride was always a pain.

“Boy, you _really_ don’t say much at all, do you?” Vinny observed, shrugging. “I mean it suits the whole vibe you’ve got going, but damn…obviously, I cannot shut up.” she said offhandedly. It was, after all, a very easy to ascertain fact.

The Sheriff snorted, mildly amused. He stopped, catching Vinny’s sleeve carefully to get her attention. Then he did something that he very rarely did for anyone; he bent down, and opened his mouth.

Vinny’s eyes went wide. “Holy fuck--ok, _that_ explains a lot and I’m sorry that I’ve put you out like this.” she said immediately; the Sheriff’s teeth were brilliant white, with classic vampire canines, but the man was missing the better part of his tongue. What little tissue remained didn’t quite reach the middle of his jaw, and ended in a blunt scar that seemed quite stiff.

He closed his mouth, smirked, then pulled out his cellphone and stylus. ****It’s not something I often disclose t**** he Sheriff typed before showing her the phone.

“Fair and valid.” Vinny held her hands up. “And I _am_ sorry that I put you on any kind of spot like that.

****You didn’t. I chose to, and now you have no reason to remark on it in the future** **

“Yeah, pretty much.” She replied. “Can I ask one more impertinent thing and then I _promise_ I’ll go back to just being generally annoying while we make our way to the club.”

He squinted hard, pursing his lips. Then the Sheriff sighed, and nodded wearily.

“What’s your name?” Vinny asked. There _had_ to be one, after all, even if he preferred to go by ‘the Sheriff’ and variations thereof. 

The Sheriff cocked his head. How long had it been since another Kindred had asked him that, much less as a social courtesy? He couldn’t say. The name itself was not so much a secret as something that had been put aside over the years for a variety of reasons. ****Do you insist on knowing?****

“Well not if it’s not something you want to disclose, I just would rather call you your name or what you’d prefer to be called instead of by your job; does that make sense?” she asked. “Like I know Chunk’s got a real name, but he says ‘call me Chunk’ so I do.” Vinny added with a shrug.

The statement was oddly sincere, reeking of the last strings of humanity that the Nosferatu was apparently hanging onto. He could appreciate that, to an exten ** **t. I’m content with Sheriff, as I am that. The ‘the’ however, is not mandatory****

Vinny snorted. “Ok, alright, have it your way my guy. Let’s go party like it’s 1899!” she teased. “Incidentally, would that be close to your birth year?” she teased.

The Sheriff gave her a look, torn between amusement and the desire to swat at her, throwing his thumb in the direction of the club.

“It never hurts to ask.” Vinny replied cheerfully as the pair resumed their mismatched pace to Confessions.

The club was in high spirits when they arrived; the Sheriff watched as the dark-haired bartender in a tiny top slid an envelope across the bar, which the fledgling promptly pocketed.

Vinny caught the frown as she made her way back to the Sheriff. “I’m a silent partner! Boring story, murdered a Russian mobster, now I get most of his portion and she doesn’t have to do pony-play anymore!” she explained over the music.

He wasn’t sure what ‘pony-play’ was, but he _was_ sure he didn’t want to know. The Sheriff let the fledgling lead him towards the outer edges of the dance floor, ignoring the booths in favor of the smaller, taller tables with stools.

“You do _not_ want to sit in those; wind up with your ass covered in cocaine or somebody’s… _yeah_.” Vinny shook her head.

The Sheriff took a seat on the stool, pleased to find it just tall enough that he wasn’t forced into that awkward not-quite-a-squat that happened when the stool was too short for his legs. He waited for the fledgling to sit before pulling out his phone again. ****Come here often?****

“Pretty regular, yeah! Pick up some spare cash, chill for the night. I _will_ say, the bands that come through here are a little more on the up-and-coming than at the Asylum, but it’s good, it’s all good!” Vinny shouted over the music.

****And no one notices you are what you are?** **

She shook her head. “Keep watching the crowd, you get all kinds of weirdos as the night goes on! But we _definitely_ wanna clear out if a dude shows up in a gimp suit with a gas mask-- _he_ is a straight-up freak but not in the fun way!”

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow. It had been a good long while since he’d been down in the thick of Kine; Sebastian tended to like him close even when they weren’t sitting on an Anarch powder keg of a city. But apparently things had gotten weird again as the new century rolled on. ****Not a Nosferatu, is he? It’d be a good disguise****

“Nope, I asked! He’s just weird and doesn’t respect boundaries, and he’s usually _high_ as a motherfucker so he gives the bouncers problems!” Vinny shook her head. “I’ve done the gas-mask look at the Asylum though, when Poison/Deadly were playing--not my favorite face covering, I gotta say!”

****Are you discreet when you drink?** **

Vinny rolled her yes. “ _Yes Dad,”_ she said drily, waving the _look_ the Sheriff gave her for the sass away, “cross my un-beating heart; if my club wife isn’t here, I go around the back of the building to catch a drunk. It’s easy.” she added. “Now enough chit-chat, let’s dance!”

He shook his head.

“Really? Come on, it’s your night off, shake it up!” she protested.

He shook his head again, slower this time.

Vinny opened her mouth to protest, debating how dangerous it would be to grab his arm and pretend to drag him--pretend, and not attempt, because she genuinely wasn’t sure if she could move the steady, stoic mountain of a man.

Before she could wind up making a bad decision, the Sheriff interrupted her train of thought with another text. ****I think someone’s trying to get your attention****

Vinny turned, following the Sheriff’s pointing finger. A small cluster of Kine were making their way from the bar to the table where Vinny and the Sheriff sat, doing their best to avoid spilling the overpriced well drinks on those they passed. “Oh shit, yeah--I didn’t think they’d be here tonight!”

He frowned deeply, pulling the glasses down just a little to fix her with a burning glare.

“ _Relax_! They think I’m some body-mod aficionado from out-of-town somewheres, they’re alright!” she protested just before the little group reached their table.

“Prime-time Vine, lookin’ blue tonight!” one of them called out; he was gangly and pale, face pockmarked and neck bearing a poorly done tattoo. He threw an arm around Vinny’s shoulders, and did not seem to register the difference in temperature between her body and the frankly stuffy club. “ _Ooh_ ‘bite me’, that an invitation?” he said with a grin.

She snorted. “Kiss off, Jeff, I’ve got bras older than your dumb ass--Sheriff, this is Jeff and his girlfriend Lana,” Vinny gestured to the girl in red PVC and not much else, “Sara’s there in purple, and…don’t know you or you!” she finished.

The Kine, Jeff, grinned. “Sharif? Like the actor? That’s cool--this is Greg, we work at Best Buy together, and that’s his sister Miley--”

“Her name’s _Haley_!” the girl in red corrected.

“Whatever!” Jeff replied.

Vinny rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a cunt, Jeff!”

The Sheriff watched Kine and Kindred squabble back and forth with all the efficacy of seagulls in a parking lot; sometimes it amazed him how blind the mortals could trick themselves into being. Between the fledgling’s admittedly better sense and that, she was _much_ less a Masquerade liability than Sebastian assumed. Eventually the non-argument was settled, and the group less one wandered towards the dance floor, leaving the Sheriff alone with the one whose name Jeff apparently didn’t know. That didn’t bother him; he was meant to be observing the fledgling and frankly--as the Kine sometimes said--this was _not_ his ‘scene’.

The night wore on pleasantly enough for the Sheriff; he’d certainly had duller nights staking out another vampire. And while it was highly improbable he would do anything else with Haley’s number after their long conversation, it _was_ a nice little fluff of the ego.

“God, I thought Jeff was a cunt but Greg is _so much worse_ ; you are so lucky you got the pretty twin.” Vinny groused as the pair headed back towards the Lacroix building.

****They’re twins?** **

“Apparently so.” she shrugged.

****If the men are so tedious, why bother with them?** **

Vinny laughed. “I’ve asked myself that a lot of times before, and I still don’t have a good answer.” she teased. “Actually I met Sara and Lana first, and they were cool--also Sara tends to taste like Jolly Ranchers,” Vinny winked up at him, “so seeing them isn’t so bad. It’s when they bring the assholes along that the night goes a little sour, and not in a tasty way.”

The Sheriff snorted and shook his head. ****Still not a bad night**** he admitted.

“No, not at all. We should do this again--don’t give me that look, it didn’t suck _that_ bad, you even just said so.” Vinny said quickly. “If you want, next time we can hit up the Asylum. You know Jeanette’s always got something going.”

****I’d rather not. She’s no fan of my employer or me by extension, and I’d rather avoid conflict where I can** **

Vinny cocked her head. “You know, that’s kind of a relief to hear? I mean read--whatever. Point is, you’re a big dude who can probably wreak a lot of havoc, it’s nice to know you’re not constantly aiming to do so.”

He shrugged. ****There are times and places for mayhem. Living longer means knowing where, when, and how ugly you can be****

“All fair points.” Vinny conceded. “Anyway, the next time, _you_ pick where we can go. Unless it’s a country bar--nothing against _good_ country, but that ‘guns, tits, ‘murrica, yeehaw!’ shit needs to go away.”

The Sheriff fixed her with a dry and incredibly un-amused look. ****Can you picture me in a cowboy hat and boots?**** Even through the mask, he could see the Nosferatu’s smile. ****Do. Not.****

“ _You_ started it.” she laughed.

 ** **Go back to your den before I regret not taking your head off just now**** he pointed down the alley where most of the other Nosferatu tended to come and go when called to this part of town. It was, for the most part, an idle threat. There was something infectious about the fledgling’s humor; if she had been embraced by a more conventional clan, she could have posed a real threat. Perhaps _that_ was why Sebastian had had her spared; in her current state, she wouldn’t be able to countermand him as publicly and regularly as Nines did. In any case, it was not a bad night, and he had not been put in a mood to murder her.

“ _Fine_ , but I’m still gonna be imagining it when I need a laugh.” Vinny retorted, winking up at him before heading down the alleyway. There was still a little time before sunrise, and she hoped it was enough to rinse the club off her skin and wind down from the night before going to sleep.

The Sheriff watched the Nos retreat, listening for the sound of the manhole cover being moved and then moved again. Once he was sure the Nosferatu was well on her way, he slipped inside through the service entrance of the building. There was time enough to detail the main points of the evening to Sebastian, and then retreat to his space for some quiet before the sun rose. He was ready to clear his head of the noise and frantic energy that came with sitting in extended, close proximity of Kine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, my personal headcanons have evolved the Sheriff into an actual character instead of a real squicky cardboard cutout and awful boss fight...I apparently can't help myself!


	8. Invisibility Difficulties

When Beckett crawled out from under whatever library he’d been living in the past month, Vinny’s nights became a frustrating pattern: get called to Lacroix’s office, get laundry list of information to gather and possibly one or two people to murder and/or terrorize, return to the office to announce the tasks were done, wait around in an alcove somewhere for forever until either the sun alarm went off OR in a rare fit of mercy Lacroix decided to let her go earlier than that. It was all the fun of working a regular minimum wage job but with even _less_ job satisfaction, somehow (which should technically be a mathematical impossibility, but there it was).

On one of those rare home-before-the-sun-alarm- _technically_ nights, Vinny made her way to her little space in the Warrens, grabbed the fat knock-off Pikachu stuffy off her bed, and screamed into its fuzzy yellow belly.

“Am I interrupting, dear?”

Vinny came up for air, surprised to see the door of her room open. “Oh, hi Auntie--no, no. I like to do this, helps keep the urge to murder down.” she said.

Serenity shook her head, bemused. Modern fledglings were a wonderfully queer source of entertainment sometimes. “Is this a bad time? Should I come back?”

“No, no.” Vinny set the stuffy (affectionately known as Pikachonk) down. “I’m good, really.” This was the first time Serenity had actually let her entrance be known, instead of just being a sudden voice and sense of company in the room. Either their relationship was reaching a new level, or the older _Unseen_ Nos had something to say, and Vinny wasn’t about to interrupt her train of thought.

“ _Well_ ,” Serenity began as she closed the door behind her and sailed to what was fast becoming _her_ seat in the room, “do you remember your completely hypothetical, not-at-all-legitimate, purely speculative scheme that requires you to _vastly_ improve your Obfuscate talent?”

Vinny sat down on the bed slowly, now very unsure; it wasn’t that she _thought_ Serenity would sell her out, especially since it was all _purely_ _speculative_ , but there was reason enough to believe that even joking about robbing another Kindred--and a Baron no less--would be some kind of punishable offense. “…yeah?” she said cautiously.

“ _Supposing_ this were to pass, what do you do with the goods? If you were honest earlier about them _not_ being a means of trying to rise up down here?” Serenity asked.

“Oh--I mean there are a couple of pieces I liked, but mostly it’d just get scattered. You know, drop a couple of pieces here, throw some stuff at Klein for his workshop; see it do some kind of good instead of doing flat-nothing in Isaac’s store.” Vinny shrugged. “Like I don’t _need_ the money, I’m at least good enough at the invisible trick to hook up some after-hours discounts--it really is about giving Isaac the biggest middle claw that I can manage, even though _technically_ he shouldn’t be able to blame me, personally.”

Serenity sat quietly, musing for a moment.

If the chair didn’t have a dent in the seat, Vinny would’ve thought she’d left. “I know, I’m petty.” she shrugged again.

“We’re all petty for something, dear.” Serenity replied. “Have you _actually_ made something of a plan?”

“Uh…smash and grab?”

Serenity sighed. “And how would you deny disappearing goods and broken glass with no one around _on camera_ , dear?”

Vinny winced. “Oh yeah…ok, so I’ll be honest, it’s been the _barest_ suggestion of a hint of an idea of a plan. I figured step one would be to first get _really_ good at being invisible, _then_ actually make a better plan than Oceans’ 12, 13, or 14. Ocean’s 8 was pretty good, although that could be because I’m more than a little in love with Anne Hathaway.” she rambled.

The older Nos chuckled. “You’re tired, and rambling…and I will hold that the _original_ Ocean’s 11 is superior. But that’s beside the point.”

“Of course.” Vinny nodded.

“ _If_ I help you to do this, I want something in return.” Serenity said firmly.

It would most likely be a _huge_ IOU--that was the one currency vampires seemed to live for, she’d noticed during those long nights listening at keyholes and lurking during meetings. Vinny tensed, waiting for the shoe to drop.

“I want something yellow. Like the sun.” Serenity’s tone softened. “It’s my favorite color.”

“Oh,” Vinny was surprised; it was without a doubt the most reasonable request for payment she’d heard in at least three nights. “You got it.”

“Good. It’s nearly sunup, so you get some rest, and tomorrow night we’ll start making you a better, harder-to-see Nossie.” Serenity said firmly.

Vinny grinned. “ _Awesome_. I’d hug you if I could see you.”

“I don’t hug very often, but I appreciate the sentiment.” the older Nos replied. “Now rest well, because the practice won’t be easy.” she rose from the seat and crossed the room, slipping out the door in a whisper.

“ _Damn_ …” Vinny had known when the older Nos rose, had seen the door _barely_ open, and still struggled with whether she was sure if she was alone or not. Even being a quarter as good as the _Unseen_ would go a long way; not just for the whole ‘fuck Isaac’ scheme, but all the back-and-forth she was having to do for Lacroix. The promised difficulty wasn’t a deterrent; Vinny had never been one to avoid hard work when the outcome was _that good_.

It was _surprisingly exhausting_ to be effectively invisible for any stretch of time! Serenity had joked (or perhaps it wasn’t _really_ a joke) that most Nosferatu could’ve been Toreador just as easily; that being _seen_ and _heard_ and _noticed_ could be so deeply intrinsic as to be nearly futile to fight against. It wasn’t enough to just have a goal or a desire that near-invisibility suited--to _really_ be _Unseen_ , a body had to be ready _and willing_ to give up every part of being seen. That Vinny, who had been an entertainer in life, was struggling with that aspect…neither Nos was that surprised.

“I know it’s frustrating, dear.” Serenity said patiently, one night as Vinny continued to fail at palming things from her own dresser unseen. “Something’s holding you back, and _that’s_ something you’ve got to sort out if you’re ever going to be better.”

Vinny groaned, un-tensing and slipping back into view. “Can I ask how _you_ manage it? I mean…you know, we didn’t really start out _that_ differently from each other, minus a few decades and all.”

Serenity chuckled. “At first, it was because I was frightened. I wouldn’t have to see the changes in myself if I couldn’t _be_ seen, you understand?” she traced a spot on the chair. “And Isaac was right about me…whether I like it or not.” she added.

“Whoa, whoa, _no_ ; stop, time-out.” Vinny said, even making the time-out sign with her hands. “This is not an ‘Isaac was right’ space, this is the House of Isaac-is-an-asshole-and-can’t-be-trusted-to-tell-us-the-color-of-the-moon, ok? Firstly,” she said firmly, “and secondly…I dunno what’s second, I just want you to never feel like he was right, because he’s wrong _and an asshole_.”

The older Nos laughed--not the dry, rustling autumn leaf laugh, but a genuine rippling echo of humor.

Vinny had never heard her be so loud, though the chair remained mostly visually empty.

“I appreciate the indignation, dear. I really, truly do…I think if we didn’t have so many decades between us, and we’d known each other then, that…that we would be friends, and perhaps…well perhaps we wouldn’t wind up this way, because instead of going to the bar, I would’ve gone to you, and you would’ve been the one to give my anger a real, sincere voice.” Serenity said, once again soft. “That doesn’t help us accomplish what we want now, but I genuinely like you. And I want you to know that.”

“I genuinely like you too?” Vinny replied, a little surprised at the uptick in emotion. “I mean you were good for me when you put the chair together, all this is just extra chocolate sauce.” she grinned.

“I’m glad.” Serenity said warmly. “So now, I’m going to push you. What’s holding you back?”

“I dunno?” Vinny shrugged. “I mean if we wanna go all armchair psychology, I was a lonely-only? Don’t like being lonely, if people notice you, you’re not lonely? I mean I’ve been over this with an _actual_ shrink, so I dunno how helpful that is.”

“It’s good that you’re aware of that, and it certainly _would_ be a big factor, if you couldn’t do it at all.” Serenity said. “But you can…I think perhaps the thing that’s holding you back is more recent. Fresher…maybe even something to do with your Turning.” The sudden, visible tension in the younger Nos gave Serenity pangs of regret, but she pressed on. “You don’t talk about it, do you, dear?”

“No.” Vinny replied, tight lipped.

“Why is that?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Serenity pressed.

“Auntie, I’m telling you right now, _don’t_. That’s a thing I don’t talk about--I’ll tell you about anything else; I’ll tell you about the time I got shit-faced at a Christmas party and threw up on a mayor, I’ll tell you about the first time I had sex, I’ll tell you about the time I got arrested with two joints and what county lock-up was like, I’ll even tell you my real name--I’ll tell you any stupid story of mine you want, but I _don’t_ talk about _that_.” She snapped. “And if you’re gonna push it…you should probably leave for the night.” Vinny added shakily.

The diatribe only made Serenity that much more certain that the younger Nos’ difficulties were tied up in a messy little bundle with the night she’d been turned. Now she was more curious than ever as to what happened, what Landon had been to the younger Nos. “Keep practicing, Vinny.” Serenity said quietly as she got up to leave. She had a hand on the door when the younger Nos spoke up.

“Vanessa.” Vinny said quietly.

The older Nos paused. “It’s a lovely name. Good night, Vinny.” she said as she slipped out the door.

Vinny dragged herself to the bed, grabbed Pikachonk, and gave his belly a good, frustrated scream, done for the night on that sour note.

Serenity gave the younger Nos a couple of nights’ distance before she returned. “Oh, a new rug?” she said, poking her head in to judge the air in the room.

Vinny turned in the computer chair and paused the game. “Oh yeah, yeah. Feet are picking up cold more easily and I’m struggling to find slippers that can survive the nails.” she said levelly.

“May I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” Vinny nodded. She waited for the door to close all the way; the plush of the carpet was tall enough to track the _Unseen_ Nos’ footsteps. When the customary dent in the seat of the wing-back appeared, she spoke. “About the other night, I uh…I’m sorry I snapped on you.”

“I realize I was treading in dangerous waters,” Serenity conceded, “and I don’t mean to prod what hurts you, dear. All jokes about theft aside, I think you’ve been a good little niece thus far, and I’d like to see you really come into what you are now.” she said gently.

Vinny hugged her knees, trying not to dig her toenails into the seat of the chair. They were starting to go the same way as the end of her fingers; to proper claws like a bear instead of overly long manicures like a lot of other vampires seemed to have. “The thing is, I don’t _hate_ being a Nosferatu, I really don’t? Apparently I should, because the cosmetics are uh…they’re something to get acclimated to,” she half-joked, “but I like that we’re a weird little extended family, and that for a bunch of technically dead-folks we’re all still pretty lively. All this angst and back-biting I’m having to listen to when I’m in Lacroix’s office…man I didn’t like that shit when I was just a boring old human and vampires were just there to be sexy or sparkle.” Vinny shook her head. “I hate the guy who turned me, but he’s dead so it _should_ be a moot point.”

“But it’s not.” Serenity nodded sagely, out of habit. “And it’s alright that it’s not. Look at me; I’m on board with a barely-out-of-cupboard scheme; not even _half-baked,_ because its target is someone who hurt me very deeply a long time ago.”

Vinny scratched her chin. “Do you um…do you _blame_ Isaac? For getting turned and all?”

“Oh no, no dear. My turning…well you know, it wasn’t gentle or kind, but it came from a gentle, kind place. I don’t hate my Sammy…in fact, I miss him very much.” she sighed.

“Sorry.” Vinny said quietly.

“It’s alright dear. And you--well you do _technically_ by courtesy owe me a telling, but it doesn’t have to be _right now_. I trust you’ll tell me when you can and able to.” Serenity replied. “And I won’t ask any details of it again for a good long time. But I will say that you _do_ have to find some peace within it, if that’s the thing that’s holding you back from really grasping your talent.” she chided ever-so-gently.

Vinny scratched her shins lightly. The older Nos had made several good, valid points, and she didn’t know how to response.

Serenity watched the younger Nos fidget. “It’s alright dear. We’ll call it for the night, and if everything is all smoothed over, we’ll sit as we always sit. What computer game are you playing?” she asked encouragingly.

Vinny took a deep breath and rubbed her cheeks with her palms. She wanted everything to be smoothed over, and if Serenity was content to let it lie for now, she’d take that lucky break. “Has Mitnick ever showed you the Untitled Goose Game?”

“Is it that very cute game where you cause mayhem?”

“That’s the one; which I can tell you, aside from the graphics, it’s literally what being a goose has to be like.” Vinny snorted. “You want to try it?” she picked up the controller and held it out to the chair; it was a cobbled-together blend of parts and duct-tape, a Mitnick-special for Nossie hands that were a little too sharp at the ends for regular controllers.

“Oh no, no; I don’t do very well with these new games. But find me a pinball machine, and I’ll show you what’s what.” Serenity said fondly. “I like to watch though.”

“Well sure; but some night you should try it, it’s lots of fun.” Vinny replied, scooting her chair to the side to afford the wing-back a better line of sight to the monitor. “Low-stakes, high entertainment.”

Serenity chuckled, and settled in to watch.


	9. Beautiful Monsters & Bitter Pills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to skip this chapter if you're at all uncomfortable with conversations about stalkers/stalking [but rest assured we're getting ever closer to Isaac getting robbed]

It was the redheaded Malkavian who was waiting for Vinny outside of Lacroix’s office that following night. “An errand list of mild import, but strict demands for its completion pre-dawn.” She said as she handed the paper to Vinny. “No gathering, only hunting.” she added.

It was on the tip of Vinny’s tongue to ask what the hell she’d meant by that, but she had been around _just_ long enough to learn that getting a straight answer from a Malkavian was no mean feat. “Thanks uh…Circe, right? Thanks.”

The redhead nodded. “No gratitude begged or bartered for, though appreciated from the cheery, cherry Nossie.”

Vinny tried not to let the shiver that was currently racing up and down her spine show, or say out loud ‘damn Insight’ (which was apparently what one said when confronted with a Malkavian who knew something they shouldn’t). “Right…uh…good night.” she turned away.

“One more thing, cherry wind-up Nossie? Salvation is in the alley, unexpected and silent, but welcoming bent ears.” the girl said, eyes wide and seeming to vibrate within their sockets.

“Look uh…I know you get this a lot, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but please stop that.” Vinny said, trying to keep her tone even. She was relatively sure the Malkavian wasn’t out to upset her, but she didn’t want or need any more callbacks to another life.

The girl shook her head, pressing her hands to her face, muttering under her breath.

Vinny hoped it wasn’t the start of a freak-out; she really didn’t know the redhead that well, except that the girl lived in Chanel (at least around Lacroix), didn’t sneer at her or Gary when he was up top, and was possibly the one dating Mitnick. That was something she would need to fix later on, once she could handle the ominous and cryptic dialogue in larger doses.

The redhead took a deep breath. “Go outside. To the alley. Talk to him.” she said, the words halting but firm.

“Him _who_ , honey?” Vinny asked.

She shook her head. “Loping nags came across choppy seas decades and decades ago, both loyal and self-serving in same turn, slow to garner respect but welcoming it all the _same_ …” the last word disappeared in a frustrated sigh as the redhead looked at the ceiling. “Sorry.” she said curtly.

“It’s uh…it’s ok. Take it easy, ok? I will go outside to the alley, I gotta go that way anyway.” Vinny reassured her gently. Given the time of night and what was typical for downtown, there was probably a chatty wino, and honestly she’d had worse conversation partners. “You have a good night, honey. Watch the stress, probably would be real dumb to die of a heart attack as a vampire.”

The redhead nodded, and gave a little wave, lips pressed thin.

Vinny got on the elevator and let the doors close and three floors go by before she let loose a low whistle. “ _Oh man_ , I’m glad that’s not me.” she whispered to herself. Supposedly Jeanette at the Asylum was Malkavian too, and she did have that kind of vibrating, screwy eye look sometimes, but her analogies tended to be a lot shorter and a lot easier to parse out; whatever had gotten the redhead was apparently _way_ worse. But she would, for humor’s sake, do as the redhead had tried to ask. Judging from where Lacroix wanted her to go, taking the manhole behind the building was a better route anyway.

Imagine her surprise to see the Sheriff in a squat with a cigarette in his mouth and his phone and stylus in hand! He didn’t so much flinch when the service door opened and she stepped out, but his eyes flicked cautiously to see who it was.

“Oh--I did not know you smoked.” Vinny said thoughtfully. “Or took smoke-breaks. Good on you--I mean taking a break. I dunno if smoking is as bad for us or not…I guess if it doesn’t make you projectile vomit like food does, you’re alright.” she shrugged.

The Sheriff nodded, taking a deep drag. He gestured with the cigarette between his fingers to the spot next to him, and then at her; it was a rare invitation given.

Vinny frowned, unsure. Is this what the redhead meant?

****I want to ask you about your sire** **

She groaned after reading the message. “Look, no offense, but that is _literally_ my least favorite topic, I would rather get and then discuss in-depth forty pap smears, than that.”

He raised an eyebrow and pointed sternly at the space next to him.

“Why? Is this an interrogation or are you just nosy?” she demanded.

****Both. You DO understand why he had to be executed, yes? What laws he violated and how very close to final death you yourself came? I want to know what made that risk worth it** **

Vinny sighed, clomping moodily to the spot and mimicking the Sheriff’s squat against the wall. “You and me both, pal. You and me _both_.” she shook her head.

The Sheriff frowned and reached into his pocket to pull out the battered pack of cigarettes to offer.

“Oh no, no. I quit like three years ago, I’m still kinda proud of that streak.” Vinny declined.

He nodded and put the pack away, then pointed to the smoldering cigarette between his lips.

“You’re fine, doesn’t bother me--when I did smoke, I liked the little cigars, you know? The real fruity ones? They always smelled better than what you’ve got--no offense.” she added.

He snorted, shaking his head. ****Too much sugar and not enough tobacco. They’re pointless****

Vinny couldn’t help but cackle. “You sound like my granddad; surprised you haven’t ripped the filters off.” she teased.

****Too messy and wasteful** **

That made her laugh again. “Can’t argue with the reasoning.” Vinny snorted, wiping her nose. “Sorry, got me laughing too hard.”

The Sheriff shrugged. ****I apparently missed my calling in comedy****

“You did,” she replied, “you could’ve had a career as the deadliest straight man ever.”

He smirked.

Vinny shook her head. “Can I ask you something?”

****You can, but I can always withhold my answer** **

She nodded. “Right…um…do you--look I’m not asking your _age_ ok, or for any details, ok?--I just um…was wondering if…I dunno. You regret being a vampire?”

The Sheriff finished his cigarette, stubbing it out and pinching the end to make sure before dropping the butt in his pocket to be dropped in a waste bin inside; while the alley might be cluttered and littered, he saw no need to add to it. Slowly and deliberately, he started another before answering. ****I am what I am now. Whatever was before is as far away as the moon. What choices I have made that have me here were mostly made with confidence. So no, I don’t regret being a vampire. Do you?****

“Funnily enough, that came up the other night.” Vinny said slowly. “I don’t hate what I am, I _hate_ how I got here, because I didn’t get a choice. I really, really, _really_ didn’t get a choice.” she repeated.

He cocked his head. ****V, will you tell me what happened? Please****

She scratched her cheek. “If I were to, does it leave this alley? Does it go anywhere from right here?” Vinny asked, gesturing between the two of them.

****No. No one has an interest in this story but me, because your sire is dead and you are currently in decent standing with the Prince. I told you already, I want to know what led to this, because if it is preventable, then my job is to prevent it** **

Vinny looked up at the Sheriff’s face, dark and stoic as ever. Then she realized he was wearing the glasses she’d brought him nights earlier, when they’d gone out. “Huh…you’re still wearing those.” She smiled faintly.

He nodded curtly.

Vinny looked at the service door across from where they sat. “You know, you’re probably the only person I could tell who _literally_ would not tell another person. No offense.”

****None taken, because that IS the truth.** **

She took a deep breath. “So uh…well for starters, my real name’s Vanessa. Vanessa Jake. I was born in Maryland, I was an only child, and I grew up and became a burlesque stage performer in Atlanta-- _Cherry Wine_ , that was me.”

The Sheriff took care to blow his smoke away from their conversation. With her living name, it would make cleaning up the last few links to that life easier.

“I miss it. The stage.” Vinny added quietly. “And my girls, and boys, and everyone in between. I miss that life so much it _hurts_. All of this?” she gestured vaguely to the alleyway and the Sheriff and herself. “Never crossed my mind. I was just singing, and dancing, and hustling, and…just living.”

He frowned. ****You genuinely knew nothing of the night?****

“Not a thing.” she confirmed. “Looking back _now_ , knowing what I know? …my first _official_ contact with a vampire was online.”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes, head tipping back in exasperation.

“Not like _that_.” Vinny said drily. “It was in Twitch--it’s a streaming thing,” she explained to the Sheriff’s next frown, “people come and watch you do stuff. It’s entertainment! I’d do games in some of my easier costumes; the first time I _ever_ did something like that was for charity, ya know? And it was so fun, and there was engagement, so I kept doing it. There’s a chat function, and you can use emojis and stuff…” she trailed off. “Right, back to the point.”

****Please** **

“I was always trying to make a positive space, ya know? Everybody’s beautiful as long as they’re not an asshole, respect is easy, matching eyeliner is hard; that kind of thing? I was getting a little following, it was cool…and one guy started coming into the chat, and he used to make Shrek jokes and use the emoji and whatever. Like I said, looking back _now_ , yeah that guy was a vampire.” Vinny shook her head. “It was fine at the start, and then he started being creepy, so mods banned him. Then I started getting text from all these dead numbers about how we needed to meet and don’t block him, he didn’t mean to upset me.” Vinny forced her hands to flex, to keep from making fists and hitting the wall nearby. “Cops were _fucking_ useless.”

****As they are** **

She snorted. “ _Yeah_ …anyway, one night I’m at home…by myself, just gonna have a pizza and a bottle of wine, kick my feet up. Open the door thinking it’s the delivery guy because I saw a black baseball cap through the peephole…next thing I know I’m getting smashed in the face, and uh…” Vinny’s voice faltered.

The Sheriff frowned. ****You were in Atlanta?****

She nodded, rubbing her throat to try and get rid of the lump that had welled up. “Didn’t see it coming.” she squeaked out. “Next thing I know, I’m in a trunk. Not a car trunk, but like…you know, one of those big old wooden ones. Smell of cedar makes me panic now…” she muttered off-hand, not realizing _that_ thought had been out loud.

He raised an eyebrow. ****Please continue, if you can. If not, I can guess up to the point you reach California****

Vinny shook her head. “It wasn’t--I spent…probably a week, in that box. No food, an occasional water bottle thrown in while I was asleep. I uh…I _wrecked_ my nails trying to get out. Hands and feet.” she shrugged. “Maybe…that’s why they’re going the way they’re going.” Vinny held her hands out in front of her, fingers spread. A strict regimen of creams kept her palms from going uncomfortably coarse, but there was no mistaking the blooming callouses; if she were a cat, they’d be toe beans. She was not, however, a damn cat. “Maybe that’s why a lot of things look the way they do now…” She mused; sagging breasts were something everyone had to contend with eventually, but their sagging and the soft and malleable skin on her belly, and the extra jiggle in her arms and thighs? One of the girls at the club had gotten her stomach stapled and dropped a few stone, and gotten a body lift in the end; but before that she’d had the same sort of loose skin and squish that Vinny was now experiencing.

****V?** **

“Just thinking…not that _you_ need to know, but under this amazing ensemble, there’s some loose skin happening that I’m starting to think _might_ only be part Nossie change…like I said, I was in that stupid box for a week with no food.”

The Sheriff made a noncommittal grunt. He couldn’t say one way or the other; the way a Nosferatu changed was as much a mystery as anything else, and as he had no idea what she _used_ to look like, there was nothing for him to compare to the vampire sitting next to him.

Vinny shook her head. “I had _just_ managed to get some leverage on the lid, actually got my pinky outside and everything. Thought I could signal for help or something--in my defense, I was more than _a little_ delirious _.”_ She waggled the surviving knuckle of the pinky on her left hand. “Lid came down _hard_.”

The Sheriff nodded slowly. After all, forceful amputations were things he understood _very well_.

“I thought I was gonna die in that box.” She added quietly, snuffing hard and dragging the back of her hand across her eyes roughly.

****You didn’t** **

“No, no I didn’t. Vinny agreed. “I’m not even sure where we were when he _finally_ opened the box. I just remember…God, I remember he had too many teeth, and nails, and he was kinda drooling, and…” Vinny shuddered. The memory was a hodgepodge of color and unpleasant sound, no real definable features beyond the feeling of absolute terror. “I didn’t get a choice, man. I didn’t get offered a step up, or down. All I remember him saying is that we’d be monsters together forever, and it would be beautiful and perfect, and then…” she shook her head. “It hurt, and then I _think_ I died--or whatever it is you do as you Turn. Probably die, but not all the way.”

He snorted. ****Something like that, you’re not far off****

“And then the door to that shit-ass roach motel burst in and then I was at the theater. That’s it. That is _all_ I can remember, and I…and I don’t even know _why_.” Vinny insisted. “And look, I’m not mad at you for taking his fucking head off, like actually _thank you_? But…God, I wish, _I wish_ I knew why.” she shook her head, biting her bottom lip to push back the rage. And it _was_ rage; as much as she was trying to get on with a new life in a new home, there was the old life and the old home and the old _everything_ that she never got to say goodbye to.

The Sheriff finished his cigarette, much like the first one. He debated ending the interrogation there; after all, he had his answer: it was not an Anarch conspiracy or worse. It was a damn fool who damned another, without permission. He looked at the Nosferatu, hunched and struggling to stay calm--it was not the Beast clawing to get out, it was the humanity that still dripped from every pore of her. _If_ he were to put a name to the sensation he was feeling, it would be pity; extremely rare, and extremely precious _pity_. Very few fledglings had managed to pull that out of him…he supposed it helped that this one had reached out in camaraderie first. So the Sheriff nudged her to get her attention.

“Yeah? Sorry, I’m ok. I’m a hundred percent together.” Vinny lied. She was not ok, and maybe only holding about sixty percent together at that moment.

****You’re aware by now of the friction between clans Toreador and Nosferatu?** **

She nodded.

 ** **I did not say this to you, understand****?

Vinny raised an eyebrow. “I mean in reality, you haven’t said jack shit to me, but go on.”

The Sheriff gave her a look and rapped the back of her hand with his stylus. ****Focus. Part of that friction is because at their core, you’re both too similar to get along. They live for beauty, and so do you. The only difference is, your curse precludes you from more obvious, passable forms of beauty****

“So I’ve been generally told, but I gotta tell you, there ain’t that many Toreadors around that I wouldn’t punt the hell out of bed for breathing funny, let alone eating crackers.” Vinny said drily.

He snorted. ****The POINT, V, is if your memory holds true, your sire DID tell you why. You would be monsters together, forever. It would be beautiful. I will not say he loved you, because up until the moment he tasted your blood, you were nothing but an ideal on a computer monitor. But his logic was that Nosferatu logic: capture the beauty, bring them down. The same as the Toreador logic: capture the beauty, hold it forever by any means****

“You know, if you said any of this shit to Gary, he’d be _really_ offended.” Vinny pointed out.

The Sheriff shrugged. ****I don’t have to say it to him. I’m saying it to you, because we are all owed an explanation for our making. Whether it’s malice, or greed, or deeply misguided, or genuinely warranted, we are all owed that explanation. Do with that what you will****

“Can it be any combination of those reasons?” she asked.

****Of course. It can be all of them. It can be only one of them. As courtesy, I will tell you that malice drove my Embrace, and let that suffice** **

Vinny blinked. “Well…thank you. I mean I’m getting now that it’s not the best vampire manners to ask how, so thank you.”

He nodded. ****If you can continue surviving, you will continue learning.****

“What are the odds on that? I mean me surviving and all.” Vinny said, half-joking.

****Higher than they were the first night we were in the same space together** **

She snorted. “I cannot argue with you there, my guy.” Slowly, carefully, Vinny stood, stretching to knock back the tension and resettle her bones. The longer the nights wore on, the more it felt like she was _still_ changing, and it was sometimes a little uncomfortable. “This really doesn’t leave between us, right?”

The Sheriff nodded again. ****You answered an important question without knowing it****

“Well…ok then. I gotta get on this to-do list. Real quick,” she said as she went into her pocket to pull it out and show him, “when I get this done, do I need to come back?”

He frowned.

“Look, the redhead _tried_ to tell me but you know how she talks sometimes? Yeah she was real scrambled eggs tonight, if you know what I mean.” Vinny said.

He nodded slowly. ****Message me if you manage to finish before dawn****

She flashed him a thumbs up. “Got it. Keep it easy, and uh...yeah. Thanks.” Vinny threw him an awkward wave before making her way to the manhole and disappearing into the sewers for the night.

The Sheriff watched the cover slide back into place, then stood to go back inside. It was a good thing that the Malkavian had such gifted hands, because she wasn’t the most reliable help Sebastian had available to him. And now that the question of whether or not the fledgling was a pebble that marked the start of a landslide was settled, the Sheriff could go back to doing what he preferred to be doing: beating safety into the territory _in spite_ of the Anarchs’ best efforts.


	10. Operation: Blind Baron

The note on the desk was written in a soft, round, _vaguely_ old-fashioned script. It was brief and the signature was a slightly off-kilter heart. Vinny frowned, then shrugged; it wasn’t uncommon in the Warrens to get a note on your door or just inside the door that asked for a meet-up or a favor or even just a generic howdy-do. But this far into her room? Either one of the other Nos had _really_ overstepped a welcome, or it was from Serenity. Klein’s handwriting tended to be blocky and wander over the page, and Mitnick just about only ever sent a text or an email. It was neat finding out she signed with a doodle instead of a name.

Vinny did as the note bid and made her way to Mitnick’s room, poking her head in to announce herself. “Meeting still on?” she asked.

“Come in, dear.” Serenity’s voice came from near the cooling fans that always ran for Mitnick’s set up.

“Yeah, yeah--Auntie was just catching me up on a real crazy idea.” Mitnick snorted.

Vinny closed the door behind her and made her way to the bunk bed, sitting on the bottom as was her usual when in Mitnick’s space. “You don’t sound like you hate it, if it’s the idea that I’m thinking you’ve been told.”

“Oh it sounds _hilarious_.” he snorted again, obviously deeply amused. “Stupid, ill-advised, but _hilarious_. The guy in question isn’t exactly popular down here, after all; even if he is just _so_ gracious to let us “live” here.” Mitnick added drily.

“Yeah, he just…the more I have to deal with him, the bigger an asshole he acts, and just…yeah.” Vinny nodded. “And while it’s _probably_ not that personal, it’s personal.”

“You’re right,” Mitnick replied, “he’s absolutely an asshole to anybody that isn’t a friggin’ Toreador.” he shook his head. “But uh…still, this idea? _Pretty wild_.”

Vinny shrugged. “I know. It was barely a thought and now I’m kinda wondering why we’re in here?” she asked the room.

“Because, dear…you’re better at moving like a Nossie now than you were; but it’s still not _quite_ up to par for this purely hypothetical idea.” Serenity replied pleasantly. “And since summer is fast approaching, there are certain things that happen that might actually make this work.”

“You lost me.” Vinny said.

“You ever spent a full summer in a city?” Mitnick asked.

“Yeah? I mean I was living in Atlanta before all of this; but I’m still not getting where you guys are going.” she replied.

“Blackouts.” Mitnick said. “Regular, sometimes scheduled, but _usually_ not told to the public unless it’s dire straits.”

“ _Oh…_ ” Vinny breathed. “Oh that’s frigging _brilliant_ \--wait, stupid question--” she started.

“Yes, and on at least three occasions.” Mitnick interrupted.

She gawked at the madly grinning Nos. “You really are a goddamn techno-wizard!” Vinny declared.

Serenity chuckled. “Alright, my clever little niece and nephew…are we invested in this idea?”

“I am, I’m kinda wondering why you might be though.” Vinny said, directing the statement to Mitnick. “I mean I’m not trying to cast aspersions or anything like _that_ just…I know why _I_ want to, and I have a decent idea of why _she_ wants to…but…I dunno why _you_ do.” she explained.

He shrugged. “It’s…personal-by-proxy.” Mitnick said. “Like I said, Isaac is well-known to be an asshole to _everyone_.” he said slowly.

Vinny made a noise in the back of her throat and scratched her cheek. “Must’ve been some insult he laid on your girlfriend.” she said at last.

Mitnick shot her a hard look. “Hey, _not_ your business.”

Vinny held up a hand. “This is not me prying, this is me thinking you’re being a super adorable and slightly destructive boyfriend, that’s all.”

Mitnick grunted and turned away, rubbing his cheek in embarrassment. “Whatever.” he said moodily. “S’not the point.” he mumbled.

“Is that enough of an answer for you, dear?” Serenity broke in. “As smart as it was to ask, Mitnick isn’t likely to sell us out.”

“I didn’t say he was,” Vinny replied immediately, “I just wanted some clarification because again: I know why me, mostly why you, and it makes sense, but I didn’t know why him. Besides, you know, he’s a goddamn techno-wizard.”

Mitnick snorted. “Yeah well…if you want to do it, I’m in…and uh…it won’t cost you that much.” he said slowly.

“I’m not doing your laundry, my dude. I don’t even like doing mine.” Vinny snorted. That wasn’t entirely a joke around the Warrens; an easy boon to barter was laundry service, considering all the shenanigans and timing it took to hit the 24-hr laundry mat at the right time to _not_ incur a violation. There was talk around that the Anarchs (or maybe it was some independent somebody) used to run a more vampire-friendly place, but when the Camarilla showed up, that pretty much ended _that_.

“No, no. My laundry’s covered.” Mitnick’s grin was goofy, his shoulders drawing up to his ears as he ducked his head, embarrassed. He ignored Serenity’s chuckle. “No, um…I’ll show you.” He said, clearing his throat and turning around to the monitor.

Vinny moved up the bed to get a better idea. “…is…wait is that?”

“ _Yup_. But really, don’t be that impressed; security cameras are so easy to hack, they’re like baby’s first break-in.” he said airily.

“You can say that, but I’m going to be impressed because this is not a thing I do.” she replied. “Now why are we looking at this?”

Mitnick switched to a different camera view. “You see that choker, in the case there?” he pointed.

It was a beautiful piece even in the grainy black-and-white footage; six strands of gleaming pearls held together with (if Vinny was remembering right) thin gold accents. “Yeah, I saw it the last time I was in there.” Vinny said. “Doesn’t _quite_ seem your style, but you know leather and pearls _do_ look nice together.”

“Ha. _Ha_.” Mitnick replied sarcastically. “Will you be serious for a couple seconds?”

“Sorry.” Vinny apologized. “You want it?”

“I do.” he nodded. “It’s a show-piece and if Isaac’s records are up-to-date and on-the-level, it’s got a bit more guarding it than the long cases. Might be more of a challenge to get at without destroying it.”

“Huh.” Vinny squinted at the monitor. “So…you make sure I have cover, and I get that for you in spite of all that, and we’re square?”

“Well, you get that in spite of the other stuff, and you’ve got my silence on the whole thing--with exception to if Gary really starts coming down, because you know…” he trailed off.

“Right, we’re toeing a real dangerous line here. Say I can’t manage that--not saying I won’t try but can’t be a Nos if I’m not hedging my bets.” she joked.

He nodded. “Anything with pearls or pink, or both.”

Vinny struggled not to smile. “She likes them, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mitnick answered without thinking, “the ‘tears of Venus’ really make her happy for some reason, so that’s what I want.” he explained.

It was an ever bigger struggle not to loose the ‘ _awww_ ’ that welled up at that statement. “Pearls, and or pink--stones or rose gold or does it not matter?”

“It doesn’t matter too much, but necklaces over bracelets and earrings over rings, if we somehow can manage to get you enough time to choose.” He replied.

Vinny shook her head. “You’re thinking too drawn out; if we can get the cover going, I’m going to smash and grab like a plain old human looter. Worry about sorting _after_ I clear the area. I’m not trying to deal with the cops _and_ Isaac’s minions _and_ whatever else might not appreciate this, you know?”

“You _have_ been thinking about this a bit more then, dear.” Serenity said approvingly.

“Well…a little.” Vinny admitted. “Trying to think of how to make it point less and less our way.”

“That’ll be tough.” Mitnick said. “I mean the smash-and-grab, that’s good. But it’s the timing that’s going to push against us. You said Isaac has minions?”

She nodded. “One of them is a dude that _literally never wears a shirt_ , he’s the most bizarre. But you’d know them to see them, they eyeball you hard from the second you set foot out of the cab and follow you the whole time you’re in Hollywood. Honestly, they’re kinda shit at stealth. And that’s not even from a Nossie perspective.” Vinny added.

Mitnick leaned back in the chair, scratching his chin and trying not to pick at a sore spot. It was about time for another charcoal mask, if Circe got enough of the night off to have him up for a spa date. “How fast do you move, Vinny?”

“Pretty fast. Haven’t _quite_ managed to outrun the speeding bullet, but I’ve definitely gotten better about ducking before the trigger’s all the way pulled.” She said; the nonsense with the plague cult had done more to help her get her vampire-talented feet underneath her than any choreographer she’d ever met--and that included the one who treated them like they were back in the USSR. “Why, what’s going on in that big beautiful brain of yours?”

Mitnick pursed his lips, studying the grainy footage. “We’re good in the dark, but even we need time to adjust from halogens to nothing,” he said, meaning vampires in general--the Nosferatu were better at adjusting to near-perfect dark in a hurry, but time was time when planning something of this difficulty, “ _if_ we set you up on a night when Isaac _isn’t_ around the store and the security detail in the area isn’t _that_ intense, you’re still not going to have a ton of time to smash, grab, and go.”

“We could use more distraction, but I genuinely hesitate to add more heads to this.” Serenity said.

Vinny shook her head. “We might not have to. The old Chinese theater nearby--you know that decrepit, ugly ass thing? It’s one of Isaac’s properties. I’m _supposed_ to be looking into it because something’s living there now that _really_ doesn’t want to move. The asshole’s gotten a wild hair about renovating it or whatever, so low and behold, send the new girl in.” Vinny rolled her eyes.

“Well…if anyone can charm a currently-unknown creature into cooperation, it would be the girl who took the great and terrible Sheriff out dancing.” Serenity said wryly.

Mitnick’s head slowly turned, eyes bugging in shock. “You did _what_?”

“ _Yes_ , I invited the great big terrible Sheriff out dancing as like…an olive branch. No hard feelings for killing my sire, mutual work acquaintance kind of thing. He’s _not_ that bad; I mean quiet, but I’m still alive and there wasn’t a massacre, and it was a pretty alright time.” Vinny protested. “I mean I’m still pretty sure he’d off me on a dime if Lacroix said to, but you know…for the time being, we can run into each other and it’s _barely_ even awkward.”

“You’re _nuts_.” Mitnick replied, shaking his head. “But I guess you’d have to be for this plan to work.” he snorted.

“You can always decline being in it.” Serenity pointed out.

“No, no, I’m in. Just let it be known that she is _absolutely_ nuts.” Mitnick replied, jerking a thumb towards Vinny before his hands returned to the keyboard. “Oh, _oh_ \--think the opportunity might be on us faster than we figured.” he murmured.

“You’re our eyes in the ceiling, Mr. Techno-Wizard.” Vinny patted his back. “I should probably go see about this thing in the theater sooner rather than later, even if it _is_ another errand for that asshole.” she rolled her eyes.

“There’s one more consideration to take,” Serenity said, “and that’s who takes the fall if this goes terribly wrong.”

“Oh that’s easy,” Vinny said, “me, obviously.” she finished before the other Nos could start getting anxious.

“Well that was easy.” Mitnick chuckled as Serenity made a surprised noise.

“What? Let’s face it--I have the least seniority in this room, it was my stupid idea to begin with, and I’m the one who’s gonna be smashing and grabbing so if I get _physically_ caught, like…that’s it right there.” Vinny shrugged. “Insofar as anyone of import can be concerned, this is me taking advantage of a common event in the city to do something really naughty and in-character for a Nos against a Toreador.”

“Yeah, but say it comes up and you can save your own neck?” Mitnick replied.

“I am not a snitch. A bitch, and nuts _apparently_ , and _incredibly_ talented, and fashionable, but not a snitch.” Vinny said firmly. “And _again_ , I literally have _zero_ vampire seniority going in my favor. If somehow I get caught, that’s it for me no matter what I could say, unless like…I dunno, I could pull the key for that stupid-ass box out of my _actual_ ass, and even then I’m pretty sure Lacroix would just off me for having it up there.” she snorted.

Mitnick couldn’t help the dry bark of laughed that came out at that. “At least you know what’s up.”

“I’m learning.” she shrugged. “If that’s all settled…are we in, or are we out?”

“I’m quite in, dear.” Serenity said fondly.

“I’m in. If this works, it’ll be a gas. If it doesn’t…well it _was_ nice knowing you, cuz.” Mitnick added.

Vinny rolled her eyes. “Thanks cuz, Auntie. Your combined faiths are just overwhelming.”

By a stroke of well-timed and _sheer_ dumb luck, the opportunity came not by way of the mysterious thing stomping around an old theater, but a regular interminably long meeting of area big-wigs. Lacroix’s latest attempt to network control of the city back to the Camarilla encouraged a casual show of force from the Anarchs and their respective collective of barons. That left Hollywood _mostly_ in the hands of its witting and unwitting Kine population.

Still, Vinny was fighting back anxiety hiccups like you would _not_ believe. “I’m topside.” she mumbled, slinking along the alley beside Isaac’s shop. Someday she’d have to learn the ‘is that or isn’t that a voice?’ trick Serenity did, to go along with the much-improved invisibility; but for the moment, she settled for mumbling and keeping well to the shadows.

“Alright, cuz. Store’s just about to close. Got two Kine doing the routine. Remember, you’ve got three minutes from when it goes dark to do your do and get out--and _don’t_ try to go out Isaac’s office.” Mitnick said through the ear bud quite literally taped to her ear.

Vinny didn’t answer, as the door to the store was creaking open and a pretty blonde girl and general brunette guy made their way out. She squeezed past them with a little too much contact to be unnoticed; luckily for her, it was in just such a way and just fast enough that the blonde didn’t hesitate.

“Christ, Chris, _really_? If you scuffed my shoes, I’m going to slap you!” she snapped.

The guy rolled his eyes. “I didn’t _touch_ your precious knock-off shoes, sweetie; why don’t you go home and huff some more peroxide, your growth is starting to show--”

Thankfully for Vinny, the door to the shop closed on the rest of that conversation. There was a chain-link gate between her and the rest of the store, but even a regular boring human could get past with enough force. She squinted; the room was still fairly glowing thanks to the soft display lights in the cases and the backwash of light from outside, but that wouldn’t be the case very soon. So she squinted, and waited, and tensed.

“ _Go_.”

The lights went out and the crowbar under Vinny’s jacket came out. It was time to go _shopping_ …

Three minutes is not (nor has it _ever_ been) a very long time, even in pitch blackness. Vinny was glad she’d wrapped duct-tape around her hands to mostly shield them from the broken glass that went flying pell-mell everywhere as the crowbar bounced across and through the long display cases. The showpiece though--and Mitnick’s request--was a less easy case to crack. With no time to stop and pause and consider, Vinny threw her whole body into the crowbar swing to crack it, then clawed at the glass to get enough of a chunk out of the way to reach in. She just _barely_ heard a whistle over the racket she was making. Time was up, and she had to _book it_.

The regular folks who’d heard the smashing and crashing, and gone to investigate, only saw the havoc and a swinging bathroom door. The curious ones who went around the back in a brief moment of foolishness saw nothing but _heard_ fleeing footsteps. None of this would prove useful to the police who managed to arrive just as the lights kicked back on, and the few Kindred that Isaac kept around to watch the street had been busy watching over his Childer, so they knew nothing either. It was not, perhaps, the most perfect crime committed, but it was _certainly_ a good one so far.

Vinny didn’t return to the Warrens for a week after, though she kept in touch by the usual channels. It was a good enough alibi--she _did_ have a tiny, crappy haven there, and Lacroix often put her with Mercurio for the night--and so far the news had chalked it up to a spontaneous yet strangely focused riot that only affected the one jewelry store and the gas station nearby. Once she did return to the Warrens, however, her first stop was Klein.

He was grinning from ear to ear when she let herself in, although he did not name names or say anything too leading. “ _Cuz_ , welcome back. Busy nights, yeah?”

“Oh you know,” Vinny said levelly, “they are what they are. Can you take a look at a couple of things for me?”

“Sure, cuz. I had a _feeling_ you might need what I know.” Klein’s golden grin was practically fluorescent.

“Also help yourself--but if it’s yellow or pink, lemme see it first to know if it’s alright to pass over, ya know?” she said as she carefully made her way through the sea of beanbags to the plastic sheet Klein was already holding out of the way.

“You are _too_ kind, cuz. Pull up a stool, make yourself at home.” he replied, fixing an oddly cartoonish set of lenses to his face and opening the bag carefully.

“Don’t worry, it uh…I already sorted the glass out.” Vinny said.

“Are you sure, cuz?” Klein replied, pulling out a large ring and holding it up to his eye, studying it with a deep frown. “Because uh, this should really have Pyrex written on the band.”

Vinny frowned. “ _What_?”

“Fake-a-roonie, cuz.” Klein declared. “Gold’s plated too.” He set the ring down. “Not worth _less_ but definitely not worth _more_.”

“Are you--are you _fucking_ \--son. Of. A. _Bitch_!” If she still had hair, she would’ve just ripped most of it out. “I cannot believe this. That asshole _still_ manages to be an asshole, even when I’m trying to get back at him!” Vinny couldn’t help the growl that rumbled wetly out of her throat.

Klein just laughed. “Easy, cuz, easy, don’t get your knees in a twist! Some of the real expensive stuff, it’s not expensive because it’s _real_ , it’s expensive because it’s _old_ , or somebody’s name is stuck on it, or something dumb like that. None of which really matters, because I can make something out of almost nothing _and believe me_ when I say that somebody’s going to be missing the goodies in your bag, and he’s _not_ going to be happy about it.” he pulled another piece out. “Not that I know anything, I’m just doing you a favor because you asked me about something I like to talk about.” he added.

She nodded. “Right. Ain’t seen no evil, ain’t heard no evil, ain’t said _nothing_ worse than usual.” Vinny rubbed her temples carefully. “I will, however, be _really_ pissed if it’s more worthless than worth more.”

Klein snorted. “Don’t worry. Even if half of this is just a boon markers, it’s like…it’s like tearing up IOUs. They were the record, and it doesn’t matter that two people remember what’s owed if there’s no evidence to make one of them do it, you get it?”

“Not really, but I’ll take your word for it.” She replied.

“Good, because it’s a good word. I know what I know.” he said firmly. “ _Ooh_ , pearls!” Klein cooed as he drew the prized choker out of the bag.

“That’s already marked, I’m afraid.” Vinny said. “Sorry, cuz.”

“Damn…it’s vintage Dior, I wasn’t even going to pull it apart, at least for a little while.” Klein shrugged as he went over the piece. “It’ll look good on you, though.”

“Vintage Dior? _Damn_.” Vinny shook her head. “No, no, I owe somebody that one.”

He nodded. “Good of you to keep that in mind. Folks wind up owing and owing through the years, it builds up.”

“Yeah, yeah I’d noticed. Stuff about ‘boons’ comes up a lot during those boring-ass meetings Lacroix keeps holding.”

Klein nodded, pulling out another piece to inspect. “Cash comes and goes, what’s valuable varies decade to decade, but owing favors never expire.” he said sagely. “I got some jewelry boxes, if you wanna put the stuff you owe in a better presentation.”

“You mind?”

He shook his head. “Nah, because you’re giving over a good chunk of this to me so we’ll still be squared even.”

Vinny smiled. “You’re a fair, fair cuz, Klein.”

“Yup! That’s just good business practice.” he murmured, drawing more pieces out.

Vinny watched the Nos sink into a hunch, and listened as his mumbling dropped into the barely-there range. He was quick-but-methodical, petting a piece here and there and grunting in acknowledgement when she pointed out pieces that weren’t up for grabs. She wondered what he’d do with his share and the spares; what he’d make and how. That got her to wondering what other crafty work went on in the Warrens, behind closed doors and in hidden spaces. She was still learning the place and its ways, but sitting quietly near Klein at his most quiet and focused, she realized just how much the clan had to pull for itself, because so few others outside of it would do for them without some backhanded return. If there was anything to be done to change that, she couldn’t think of it right then and there, sitting on a stool that squeaked lightly if she moved…but maybe that was something for a few years down the line, provided she survived the nights till then.


	11. The Aftermath

Lacroix entered the building, head throbbing and ready to smash his mobile phone to dust. Being hung up on always fouled his mood to the worst degree. As _if_ it was _his_ fault the Hollywood baron had been robbed! As if it was _his_ fault that the regular routes of investigation had turned up nothing more useful than ‘the store was robbed, there was a crowbar involved, and people heard _something_ and saw _nothing_ ’. Even his esteemed Sheriff had turned up nothing of use; and of _course_ Gary-damned-Golden was being uncooperative as usual. It was rare that Kine could managed _such_ an action, but it _did_ happen and frankly he had more than enough to contend with with the general state of the state _without_ having to also pay attention to every minute irritation some Kine somewhere caused!

“Good evenin’ there Mr. Lacroix; great night iddn’t it?” the portly security guard at the desk called out, much the same as he always did. And much like he always did, the man waved.

It was all very typical, except there was a gleam on the guard’s wrist that wasn’t usually there. Lacroix paused. “Good…evening…ah… _Chunk_.” _Oh_ how he hated saying that name out loud. “That’s…a rather handsome watch you’re wearing.”

Chunk flushed, a darker pink than he already was. “Oh, ya noticed, didja? Gift from a lady friend.” he said proudly, holding his arm out awkwardly to show off the prize.

The nerve on Lacroix’s left temple gave a great twitch. _If_ he was not already wearing _his_ watch, he would have thought the generally useless guard was wearing it. “That’s…quite a piece there. And it was a gift, you say?” Lacroix managed through tight lips. It was a good thing he’d dropped his phone in his pocket at some point before the conversation started, or else it would be so many shards embedded in his palm.

Chunk nodded, oblivious to the rising irritation in Lacroix as he was to…generally everything supernatural that came in the lobby. “Oh yeah, see my other watch broke during a real tussle with the garbage chute at my apartment--that door sticks like a real mother-whopper, if you pardon my French… _gosh I could go for a Whopper right now_ \--oh ah, anyway, so my lady friend--she’s real sweet, ya know--when she was going up to see ya the other night--I know _technically_ it’s against the employee rules, but seein’ as how she’s ah, one of them there ‘contract workers’ ya know, there’s some leeway on what applies and doesn’t apply--anyway, she puts this box on the desk and it’s this real swell watch. You can’t even see the other L on it.” he said proudly.

“The…other ‘L’?” Lacroix repeated slowly.

He nodded, undoing the watch and passing it over. “There’s a fella a few blocks over, goes by Larry, he sells some real nice-lookin’ stuff sometimes. He used to hab around here, but don’t you worry sir, I put him off--I wouldn’t say this to my lady friend because you know, it was a sweet thing to do--but Larry doesn’t _always_ have the most honest merchandise, but this here’s probably one of the best to come offa’ his truck.”

Lacroix took the watch slowly, turning it over to see that _yes_ : it was a R-O-L-E-X. Just like _his_. “So…this… _Larry_ …sells counterfeit,” he felt bile rising in his throat, “’Rahl-ex’ watches?”

Chunk nodded. “Watches, purses, that kinda stuff--I mean it’s downtown Mr. Lacroix, somebody’s always got some kind of hustle going and I can’t fault a guy for trying to make a living--I mean a’course _I_ don’t support that kind of thing, but my lady friend, well she’s not from around here ya know, and you know how nice she is and I guess this kind of thing doesn’t happen where she came from originally. So I tell her thanks and I’ll wear it ‘till it breaks, just like the last one.” he held one pudgy hand out for the watch.

Lacroix handed it back slowly, and watched the guard fumble to put it back on. “You know--I have a lot of…very nice, young ladies who work for me--” he managed to get out quietly, if not stiffly. “Which one is your ah…lady friend? I’m just curious; I’d like to know if I’ve been paying her too much.” he lied through a gruesome smile.

Which, of course, Chunk missed. “Oh ah…well between you and me, ah…discretion bein’ the better part of valor and all…”

Lacroix nodded mechanically. “Of course… _Chunk_.”

“Well I’m friendly with a couple of your gals--your massage therapist, Sissy? Oh she’s _real_ sweet,” Chunk said smugly, “but uh this is from your ah, your delivery gal--Vinny. You know she’s got those terrible allergies, always in a mask, which is real polite, but she’s got just about the prettiest eyes I ever saw on a girl. Not so sure about the hats cuz she’s got that beautiful dark hair she’s always hidin’ under’em, but I don’t really get today’s fashion, so I just smile and nod when she comes in like she does.”

For a brief moment, Lacroix wished he had a delusion as powerful and convincing as Chunk did, so that he too could miss out on every queer oddity that a blasted _Malkavian_ and a double-damned _Nosferatu_ that liked to play dress up had. “I see…you are…of course…discrete, Chunk? I shouldn’t like an episode in the lobby of my building, now.” he choked out.

“Oh, a’course Mr. Lacroix, you can count on me.” Chunk said positively. “You got’em scheduled real good and I guess they don’t talk to each other.” he shrugged. “I got it handled, Mr. Lacroix, don’t you worry--not that I’d go into details, what with us being in the work place and all, but ah…I’m not stranger to Cupid’s arrow.” he grinned, revealing either lettuce or possibly parsley wedged neatly between two teeth.

“Bully.” Lacroix replied. “When your shift is over… _Chunk_ , would you please come to my office? I’d like to…discuss last week’s security tapes.” This, of course, was code for Lacroix to have a deeply guilty sup and Dominate the memory right out of Chunk’s thicker-than-thick head, all to be made up with a slight bonus on the next paycheck.

He nodded. “A’course, Mr. Lacroix, as soon as I’m off the desk.”

“Excellent. Good night… _Chunk_.” Lacroix managed to spit that out in a relatively modulated town, _and_ walk away from the desk, _and_ get on the elevator before he swore out loud, and for three floors.

When Lacroix got to his office, the Malkavian was already standing at the ready by the fireplace…with strings of faintly pink pearls around her throat. He had never been to the Baron’s jewelry store, but he had read the baron’s terse and expletive-filled report of what was missing; and those pearls did seem _very, very_ familiar. “Circe? What is that around your neck?” he demanded.

The Malkavian smiled. “Tears of Venus, glasped by golden Gideon; a gift from my most beloved lover.” she gushed, touching the pearls with one hand.

He couldn’t begrudge how well they matched her appropriate wear. _However_ … “Certainly _not_ Chunk?” Lacroix said skeptically.

Circe shook her head. “Oh no, no. While aptly paid for his duties on and off the seat, he does not have the golden goods to barter with Apollo in such a way.” Her tone was pleasant, her smile unwavering, and her words as cryptically nonsensical as ever.

Lacroix squinted at her. It was obvious the doubly-damned Nosferatu was behind the watch…but even someone as addled as this particular Malkavian wouldn’t stoop as low as to take a Nosferatu in any serious role. While the Anarch Baron of Santa Monica might’ve been so depraved, the one she was _purportedly_ bedding had more worth to bargain with than the damned fledgling or generally any Nosferatu that wasn’t their Primogen. And he was comfortably sure that his lucky find of a masseuse wasn’t rubbing against Gary Golden. “Did he happen to mention where he got it?”

Again, the Malkavian shook her head. “No--gifts, blessings, and horses’ teeth are better taken with good grace than have their provenance pondered to uncomfortable degrees; this is no gallery’s piece and so no uncomfortable questions for the hobby or the lobby.”

Lacroix pressed his fingers to his lips and counted to ten. “I have to make a phone call, and then I need you to do your absolute best for me tonight, because my head is _screaming_.” he hissed.

Circe nodded. “By bell, book, and candle lit, _m’sieur_.” her voice flitted at the end, as it sometimes did. It was the one bit of sarcasm she knew she could consistently get away with, because everything was always chalked up to ‘the madness of Malkav’. It was an exhausting and aggravating constant dismissal, but feeling the smooth pearls on her skin was a comfort; Nicky at least gave her credit and then some.

He took a deep breath, wishing that whichever of the Malkavian’s mad voices that knew how to slip in such a fine Parisian nasal came out more often. “Thank you, my dear. Now excuse me.” Lacroix pulled out his cellphone to get a hold of the double-damned Nosferatu Primogen, to try and press him on the matter before his headache got any worse.

The door to Vinny’s room opened, and Barabus poked his head in. “Hey little sister, Gary wants you in his room _now_.” he said.

Vinny paused the game. “Uh…am I in trouble?”

“Let’s just say that you wanna get there asap, alright?” the other Nos replied.

“Yeah, two seconds, and I’m there.” she said as she got up.

“You better be.” he cautioned.

Vinny nodded, going to her dresser first to pull out one of Klein’s little boxes, then padded out the door past Barabus.

“Not sure a bribe’ll do you too good if he really is as mad as he sounds.” Barabus warned.

“Well…a girl’s gotta try.” she said with a shrug, skipping a step to get onto the walkway over the water faster.

Barabus watched the new girl move; it was clear from the way her legs were flexing that changes were still going on. She was alright; a little loud, a little tacky, not _quite_ in the Nossie swing of things, but she was alright. Hopefully this was just a play-act from Gary, and she wasn’t in _actual_ trouble like before.

Gary was waiting for her, arms folded, tapping his toe on the stony floor. “I just got off the phone with our favorite frenchy little ponce there, boss.” he said tersely. “He seems to have an idea that _you’re_ the one that knocked over old Isaac’s little trinket shop. What I want from you, right now, is an answer. A truthful one.”

Vinny sighed. “Ok, I did it, but in my defense, Isaac is an asshole and had it coming and before you get _really_ mad, I brought you something!” She’d been holding the little box behind her back, but now was as good a time as any to open it to him. “And it’s not a _bribe_ per se but I did notice the first night we met that you have this _beautiful_ obsidian tie-tack and it just so happened that there are indeed matching cufflinks and I just thought you _desperately_ needed them.”

He smirked. “I know you did; nothing happens in these warrens that I _don’t_ know about.” Gary plucked the box from her hands. “Now we’re going to try this scene again, but when I ask you ‘did you rob the baron of Hollywood, who has so _graciously_ accommodated our clan under the city’, you say…?” he prompted.

“I would _never_ also how stupid is that for a girl like me who wasn’t actually supposed to be a vampire and is currently surviving on the very temperamental generosity of others.” Vinny replied. “Also, I’m _barely_ getting a handle on being a vampire, how in God’s name am I supposed to knock over a jewelry store owned by a much older vampire who literally has control of the city that that store is _in_?” she added.

Gary chuckled. “Maybe rein in some of that sarcasm, boss. But that was a good enough read for tonight.” he eyed the cufflinks, nestled in what was obviously one of Klein’s custom little paper boxes. “And this isn’t a bribe, this is an IOU.” he said.

“Oh?” Vinny raised an eyebrow.

He nodded. “Isaac’s owed me these since 1959. Bet on a high card that didn’t play out.” Gary pocketed the box. “Thought he could get out of paying when I had to go to ground, but I guess the joke is on him now, boss.”

“He welshes on bets too?” Vinny asked. “ _Christ_ , what an absolute asshole. If you don’t wanna pay, you don’t bet. It’s literally _that_ simple.” she shook her head. “Am I in trouble?” Vinny asked, after a pause.

“Not as long as you remember your lines, boss.” Gary said cheerfully. “Isaac’s bitching at Lacroix because that’s a fun way to spend an evening, but he’s not going to ask _the Camarilla_ to do something for him, that defeats the purpose of _being_ an Anarch. Lacroix can bitch to me, but as long as you stay a good little Nossie, and remember your lines, _we_ don’t have a problem.” he said firmly.

She nodded. “Right. Plus, it really would be the _dumbest_ thing to do, especially with Lacroix constantly reminding me that he saved my life by not having me killed.”

“Exactly…that’ll wear off, eventually. I’m not sure _how_ , but it always does.” Gary said, reassuring. “Now run along, boss. I have to get dressed for a meeting.” he smiled, broad and mean, reaching into his pocket for the cufflinks. “And I’m feeling _flashy_.”

Vinny snorted, what little nose she had left wrinkling in amusement. “Have fun, boss.” she said before backing away and slipping out of the room.

He chuckled. It was good to _finally_ get his marker after better than fifty years, better that Isaac’s pointy nose was getting rubbed in it, and best that the new kid was turning into a pretty decent Nos in spite of (and a bit because of) everything. Gary hummed as he got dressed to go topside, hoping that Isaac was there. The extra shine on this aware of a night would be looking the old bastard in the eye and just _daring_ him to say something while the long-overdue marker gleamed on Gary’s cuffs.


	12. Her Most Beautiful Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After clearing out the Society of Leopold, Vinny has an incredibly traumatized Toreador to try and nurse (because she just can't just leave someone in that bad a state)

Vinny was exhausted in a way she hadn’t been since two nights after getting turned. The assault on the old monastery had been terrifying in a lot of new ways, but none more so than finding Isaac’s Childer in the fetal position in a cage in a cage. She’d never really thought about the difference between ‘monster’ and ‘monstrous’ (mostly because there hadn’t been a lot of time or reason to), but what those assholes had done in the name of faith was worse than anything she’d had to put up with thus far. What’s more, she _finally_ understood what the hell everyone was on about when they talked about _the Beast._

It turned out, what she’d been chalking up to a shortened temper and exasperation was _the Beast_ trying to cut loose and wild out. _Unlike_ just about everyone else who’d talked at her about it though, Vinny didn’t feel much satisfaction in letting it loose after the fight was over. She didn’t _feel_ like it was clambering to get out and she was on the razor’s edge of humane and inhumane. She just felt tired, and disgusted, and worried about the guy currently using her crappy shower.

Ash gave the mirror a half-hearted swipe to clear it. The weeping burns on his cheeks stung, but now whatever it was that the hunters had ground into them to keep them open was gone, and the skin could start pulling back together slowly. He wondered if there would be scars, if every time he bothered looking at himself, he’d have to remember. The crappy little bathroom and its acidic light didn’t help; while it wasn’t the same as the gloom of the cavern prison, it was still too dark. He gripped the sink hard, breathing hard through his nose. Forcing the air in and out, nearly choking on the scent of potpourri and soap…he still couldn’t believe he was _still_ alive.

There was a knock on the bathroom door; Ash startled, knocking the soap dispenser and toothbrush holder into the sink. He fumbled trying to grab them without breaking all the plastic.

“Ash? Ash, honey, are you ok?” Vinny pressed her ear to the door, hearing the fumbling. The surgeon scrub she’d managed in the bathroom sink hadn’t done much to wash the creeps away; she was looking forward to hopping into a proper shower. _Not_ that she was trying to rush him _per se_ ; she just wanted to be sure he hadn’t resumed the fetal position and used up all the hot water.

“I’m--” he didn’t know how to respond. ‘I’m far from okay’ was honest, but saying it out loud was jamming salt and sanctified ash in the wounds…and he’d had _more_ than enough of that.

Vinny heard the hesitation. “Just leave your clothes on the floor in there, ok? I’m going to crack the door and pass something nice and warm for you to put on instead--I promise, no peeking.” she added, trying a little humor. If he smiled, or got exasperated, at least he wasn’t in the throes of panic. At least, that was her theory.

“Thanks…” Ash replied faintly as the door cracked and the Nosferatu woman pushed a plaid bathrobe and slippers through, one shoe at a time.

“Take your time; there’s some AB about to finish warming up, it’ll be waiting on you when you get out.” Vinny said softly, easing the door closed again. She went back to the kitchenette to check the timer on the bottle warmer. It probably wasn’t going to taste _great_ , having lived in the fridge since she’d started rooming at the Warrens more often than not, but it would be better than nothing and Ash needed the boost. She didn’t know if what they’d done to him would be permanent, or scar, but it didn’t matter. Even if he smoothed back over to the icy prettiness Isaac had cursed him with, he still needed an honest sup in a safe space.

The thickness in his throat cut off all gratitude. Ash held the bathrobe to his face, rubbing his cheek against it. It was flannel, soft, and smelled like tropical fabric softener; it smelled _normal_. Ash took a shaky breath and pulled the robe on, belting it tight, then slipped his feet into the slippers. They were pink and fuzzy and ridiculous, and he _almost_ smiled. They were tacky, like the flamingo shower curtain and googly eyes on the soap dispenser; cheery and colorfull in spite of the ugly fluorescent light.

Ash padded out of the bathroom, clutching the bathrobe around his neck. The Nosferatu was waiting with a baby bottle full of blood in hand. He frowned.

“Look, it’s what fits the thing.” Vinny explained. She held it out to him. “Now drink up, take a load off. My turn to get clean.” she said cheerfully, waiting until he took the bottle and shuffled to the one comfortable chair in the little apartment. “There. Just make yourself at home, Ash.” she said warmly, before heading into the bathroom. He’d left his clothes in a heap in the shower, and the towel hanging off the doorknob, and the bath mat wasn’t totally soaked. All-in-all, Ash was turning out to be a better male guest than most.

Vinny opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the mini washer. She’d start scrubbing his clothes in the shower after scrubbing herself, then let it cycle before hanging everything here, there, and everywhere to _hopefully_ dry by the next night. She turned on the shower radio for a little noise and make it easier to ignore the groaning pipes; the apartment really _was_ a crap hole.

While the Nosferatu rustled around the bathroom, Ash sat in the (probably) vinyl chair, sinking a little in the seat. It was cheap and a little busted and reminded him of the kind of furniture that decorated the places he _used_ to feel at home in: before Isaac and Hollywood, before anyone _really_ cared who he was. Ash drained the bottle fast, ignoring the surge of queasiness that followed. It was warm, at least, even if it tasted old and a little like the inside of a refrigerator. He _did_ need it; the bastards had kept him barely above starved, because it was more entertaining to hurt him when he was conscious and could scream (at least, that’s the way Ash figured it). Between the sup and the general air of the apartment, he felt almost back to that miserable lukewarm state that vampirism left him in…physically, at least. Terror still chilled his core.

When Vinny stepped out of the bathroom, having started the washing, she found the Toreador in a watery-eyed stupor. “Ash? Ash, honey?” she crept towards the chair, moving slow to try and keep from startling him. He didn’t seem to be seeing her. “Ash? Ash, _honey_ , where you at?” Vinny murmured, kneeling by the chair.

Fat, cold tears started rolling down his cheeks; Ash opened his mouth, but all that came out was a miserable squeak. Words weren’t good enough to put on the misery that was ripping through him. He shook his head, mouthing silently and desperate.

“It’s ok honey, it’s ok--I know what’ll help, I got something you won’t _believe_.” Vinny said, stretching back and grabbing a jar from the table the TV sat on. “This shit is _magical_ , it could calm down the Hulk.” she swore, unscrewing the lid.

Ash caught the smell of lavender and menthol before he tasted it through his panting mouth. The Nosferatu was still talking, a low steady stream of words that he couldn’t focus on to listen to. She held a jar, and was loosening the belt on the bathrobe and pulling the lapels to expose his chest. He waited for that _look_ that came over people who saw him solely as an object to be desired and had; prepared to be disappointed with the Nosferatu the way he’d been with so many others.

“...and _don’t_ worry about the claws, I’m a dab hand at this.” Vinny said, getting a heavy dollop of the lotion onto Ash’s chest before using her palm to rub it in slow, gentle circles. “This stuff is great; friend of mine clued me in, it’s the best when you’re freaking out and can’t breathe.” She added, working the stuff into his chest and a little up on his shoulders, being careful not to snag his skin or the robe with her claws. Barnabus, of all people, had told her about it; he liked using it on his hands before going down for the day, swearing that it kept them from getting as stiff while he slept.

Ash frowned a little, eyes glued to her face. The Nos had large, expressive eyes with deep wrinkles at their corners; not markers of age but of a ready, regular smile that wasn’t exactly _ruined_ by fangs. The palm of her hand was a little rough, but not unpleasantly so--more like the paw of a cat than something monstrously awful. Ash _wanted_ to believe she was just being kind for the sake of it, but time and experience had betrayed him before. He decided to push her by untying the robe and waiting for _that look_.

Vinny startled, glad she couldn’t blush. “ _Lord_ , Ash, honey, put the horse back in the barn.” she joked, very gently pulling fabric back over his thighs for modesty’s sake, “I know it’s been a rough couple of days--”

“Weeks.” he managed to rasp, all passivity bleeding back into cold, hard panic. “Ten days at least, maybe more? I-I-I-I-I lost count a-a-a-and they laughed at me and--” Ash brought his hand to his mouth, biting the back of it to stifle a sob.

“ _Oh Jesus fuck_ \--” Vinny breathed, putting the jar on the bed and getting up from her crouch, straddling the arm of the chair and pulling Ash into a hug. “It’s ok honey, _it’s ok_ , just let it out; it’s _safe_ here, I promise.” she felt his arms wrap tight around his waist. “That’s right, I’m _right here_ for you, Ash, right here.” she repeated.

Ash started to bawl, turning his face towards her soft, yielding body, burying his face in the tropical fabric softener scent. He felt one of her beastly hands on his back, rubbing it with the same soothing circles she’d touched his chest with. One of her arms wrapped around his head, the claws lightly combing through his hair. It had been _so long_ since someone had just held him when _he_ needed it.

“That’s right, let it out, let it all out honey,” Vinny murmured over and over, starting to rock him lightly. Her knee was wedged between his hip and the arm of the chair, making for an awkward straddle that made her toes tingle. But even if her feet went to sleep, she wouldn’t let him go until he calmed down; that was just a fact. Her heart ached for the Toreador, sympathetic to depths of his panic. She’d probably have more crying jags just like this if she didn’t have the Warrens to fall back on; all the cousins and aunties and uncles and Gary to go and find company and solace with when the night was rough.

After what felt like ages, Ash turned his face enough to pull a ragged breath in. “I’m sorry.” he said, muffled by the embrace. Her chest and stomach were _so_ soft, molding against his cheek, so different from the hard plastic bodies he’d tried cozying up to around the club. The yearning for a gentle, selfless touch was finally being satisfied after _so_ long, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it except to keep touching.

He was like a scared little kid. “It’s ok. It’s ok, you had a _bad time_ and you’re hurt.” Vinny said softly. “It’s ok; you’re safe, and tomorrow night, after a good sleep, I’ll get you back to Hollywood.” she felt him tense, and gave him a squeeze in return. “ _Without_ Isaac knowing a damn thing; you can get your stuff, and go away, and find a little piece of something that’s _all_ yours, and you’ll get better and be happier.” She said, a little more firmly than she’d been speaking, to reassure him.

Ash loosened his grip from around her waist and pulled back from her, sitting against the back of the seat. “I don’t…I don’t know what that would _be_ , Vinny.” he whispered, tasting pineapple in her name. It was probably just the fabric softener, and how close they’d just been.

Vinny got out of the awkward straddle, very gently pulling the bathrobe closed around Ash again, tying the belt for him. “That’s ok. You’ve got _time_ to find out, honey.” She said patiently. “You’ve got _all_ the time in the world to out.” she insisted, when the Toreador shook his head.

“The thing I liked, that I _loved_ , I can’t do anymore.” he said. “Even if-even if all of this goes away,” Ash gestured to his face, “I _can’t_.”

“I uh…I get it man. I _get it_.” Vinny settled back into a squat, resting her arm on the arm of the chair and looking up at him. “I used to be a burlesque performer--that’s what I was doing when…I mean before this.” she gestured to herself. “And I _miss_ it, man, I miss the shit out of it. The costumes, the stage, the audience…my boys and my girls and my everything-in-betweens…” she trailed off.

Ash cocked his head, listening intently. The longing that had come over the Nos’ face was _so_ familiar. “How are you…I mean…you’re so… _together_.” he said slowly, in wonderment.

Vinny snorted. “Fake it ‘till you make it, baby.” she grinned, then shrugged. “In all seriousness though…I miss my old life. I _miss_ it. But aside from uh…from some _major_ adjustments,” she gestured to herself again, “I don’t hate the new life. I’ve got friends, and I’ve seen some spectacular shit already? I have a home--not this place, this is uh…employee housing.” Vinny snorted. “And I figure, once I’m not the lowest rung on the ladder anymore, I’ll have more time for what I want to _actually_ be doing, whatever that is.” she didn’t know if that last thing was actually going to turn out to be _true_ , but she was willing to hedge her bets.

“But you still won’t get to…you know. Perform, anymore.” Ash pressed.

“Yeah, and that sucks. I mean I could probably pull something off on Halloween,” Vinny grinned, “I’ve thought about it, _trust me_. But…” she shrugged. “At the absolute very least, I got to do something I loved for like fifteen years? That’s more than some people get to say about their whole lives. At least, that’s what I tell myself when I start getting bummed…then usually somebody wanders in, or calls me, and there’s not a lot of time to sit around being bummed out.” she smiled. “My home--like where I’m actually living--it’s kinda like a dorm, but less gross. Someone’s always up to something and in and out and it’s hard to be lonely there, which works out _really_ well for me.”

He took a shaky breath. “I don’t…know. I just don’t know…I…” Ash sniffed, wiping his nose across the back of his hand. Did she mean the Nosferatu nest, under Hollywood? Isaac complained about it from time to time, and given the impression it was a nasty, dirty place full of nasty, dirty monsters--while Ash already knew to take pretty much everything Isaac said with an ocean’s worth of salt, he was still surprised to hear it describe as warm and friendly as she was describing it. It honestly sounded kind of nice; certainly less fake than the club and his condo.

Vinny patted his hand that rested on the other arm of the chair. “One thing at a time, Ash. And right now, _all_ you gotta do is be chill with me. We’ll rest up, be chill, and then we’ll work out tomorrow night. Ok?” She smiled. “You want a blanket? Or for me to try and turn the heat up?”

Ash nodded, fingers twitching when she started to move away. “Just the blanket, the air’s…the air’s fine.” he said, the urge to grab for her still there. The apartment was small enough that she really couldn’t leave his line of sight unless she went in the bathroom and shut the door…but he still wanted her close.

“Alright.” Vinny pulled the blanket off the foot of the daybed, opening it with a flick of her wrists and draping it on Ash and the chair. “ _Now…_ let’s see what’s on the late night. I’ll watch anything with you, except the Walking Dead. I _hate_ zombies.” Vinny said, turning away from him to reach out and pick up the remote from the table with the TV on it, then turned back to offer it to the Toreador.

“Deal.” Ash said quietly, taking it from her. It didn’t really matter what was on, but the noise would be alright. The Nos climbed onto the daybed, sitting up against a large teddy bear--one of the really large ones that sometimes showed up as carnival prizes. There was an ‘I Love Lucy’ marathon on one channel, and he put it on. Normally he would skip it--Isaac was always on about Lucille Ball (usually in the negative) and would watch it for something to complain about if he couldn’t think of anything new--but the Nos giggled at the preview and that made the decision for Ash. He could deal with anything, if the other person watching it with him was enjoying themselves.

Ash twitched out of torpor somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, unsurprised at the time on the magazine gift clock on the wall. He couldn’t remember if he’d always had trouble sleeping, or if it was some strange post-Embrace development. Once, he’d asked Isaac if it was possible, and been brusquely brushed off because ‘no one but the Tremere are foolhardy enough to try and argue with the sun’s hours’. He’d kept the vampiric sleep disruption to himself ever since. Ash then looked over at the bed; Vinny had tried to give him the bed when the sun-warning rang (gently, kindly, sweetly) but he’d declined. Once he went down, he was still as a pretty corpse, after all. She’d laughed and swore she tossed and turned around as bad as the living, and as Ash watched her legs move and kicking out, he regretted not believing her.

“Vinny?” he whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder, snatching his hand back as she rolled onto her side with a whimper. Ash had never seen a vampire move so much or make so much noise when they slept! He frowned, getting up to lean over her. “Vinny?” Ash called a little more loudly. Her eyelids didn’t even twitch; she was in torpor as far as being un-wakeable. He frowned, looking her over; her legs hitched and he saw a deep crease in her thigh.

Suddenly, the thrashing made more sense--he remembered tossing and turning like that after long days of filming and stunts, when his own muscles tried to tie themselves in knots. Ash bit his lip, looking around. His eyes landed on the jar of soothing lotion. “I--I’m trying to help. I’m not being a creep.” he told the sleeping Nos as he grabbed the jar and opened it. “A friend--well not a friend, somebody hired to deal with me--they showed me what to do, when this happens.” Ash explained, getting a dollop of lotion between his palms. He hesitated with his hands an inch from her leg. “I promise, I promise, I mean to help--I’m not--it’s not sexy.” he gabbled, finally touching her skin.

It was like old, soft leather wrapped around a steel bear trap. Ash swallowed, pushing the heel of his hands against the cramp, trying to coax the muscle to release. “It’s not--I’m not trying to--to take _advantage_ ,” he continued, “I wouldn’t do that.” Ash whispered. “Especially when you…when you didn’t do it to me.”

Vinny whimpered and kicked out again. She couldn’t hear Ash in her sleeping state, and the pain in her legs drowned out his massage attempts. As far as she was aware--as much as she _could_ be aware, in her variety of torpor--there was just her, darkness, and the fire eating up her legs.

“I hated it when people did it to me--that’s the thing about being an actor, you don’t belong to _yourself_ anymore.” Ash continued, planting a knee on her other thigh to try and keep from catching another kick to the hip. “I’m sorry I thought--that I _ever_ thought--you’d be the same.” he murmured. “You’re so--I mean you just--” he fumbled with the words as the cramp in her thigh let go. “There--ok there--I can help you. Not like you helped me, but I can help.” Ash said, his determination renewed.

A strange thing happened, as Ash continued to fight and massage the Nos’ legs. The typical feeling of a muscle seizing under skin--hard, twitchy, with just a little bit of yield--disappeared. It was more like handling a leather purse full of tools? Maybe that wasn’t _quite_ the right way to describe it: the strange, almost putty-like way her legs moved when he pulled on them. It felt a little like sculpting, although Ash had _no_ idea what the result was supposed to be. He wasn’t _trying_ to hurt her, or change her--there was _nothing_ about her that _needed_ to change. As Ash did his best to be helpful, wincing at the sound of bones grinding and joints popping, his mind wandered to a common Toreador topic: _beauty_.

Isaac made no secret his absolute disgust for the Nosferatu, and VV wasn’t shy about her shudders either. But when he’d been trapped in a wet cave, under torment and threat of an ugly death, _a Nosferatu_ ripped the lock plate off his door and held her hand out. She’d talked sweet and low, promised to save him _and did just that_. She’d brought him to a haven and nursed him and been tender to him. And she’d insisted throughout that they were friends, and he didn’t _owe_ her the kind of boon that something like this netted among Kindred.

Ash had never spent much time--really any--with a Nosferatu before this. He’d only seen their Primogen at a distance, enough to know that they _changed_ with the change, but nothing more concrete than that. He wondered if they all had that same, expensive feel to their skin. If they all had a cute rasp at the end of their sentences, and such beautifully expressive eyes. Or was that just Vinny--purely, solely, wonderfully _Vinny_.

As her foot stretched and shifted in his hand, something clicked into place. Not just the bones of her foot, but also a sense of fulfillment. ‘Clicking’ was what VV called it: when they found the thing that made the night make sense. Ash swayed, reeling a little. “You are…the most _beautiful_ soul I’ve ever met.” he whispered, stunned, as he sat down heavily on the very end of the daybed.

Vinny settled, curling on her side, quiet and calm and unaware of the new shape of her legs. It would be _quite_ a surprise when she woke up. But for the moment, her torpor was settled.

Ash swallowed. He hadn’t ever expected anything to _click_. All the gallery openings and private viewings and throngs of Hollywood’s plastic finest parading through the Asp had never given him such a feeling; how could he _ever_ have expected it to happen in a crappy one-room apartment in Santa Monica, with someone too genuinely good to be there?

He was exhausted; the lapse in his torpor was ending. Ash managed to get off the bed and back to the chair, twisting it to face the bed and pulling it closer so he could lean forward and rest his head on the mattress near Vinny. Even after running his hands from her thighs to her toes, he wouldn’t go any closer than this. Not until she gave him permission.

The first thing Vinny saw when she woke up was the top of Ash’s head. _That_ was a little odd; so much for the Toreador sleeping like ‘a corpse in rigor mortis’. She snorted, touching the top of his hair lightly. “Hey. _Hey_ , you awake, handsome?” she chuckled.

Ash sat up slowly. “Are you ok?” he asked, throat dry.

“Me? Yeah, I’m good.” Vinny replied, starting to sit up. But something didn’t feel _right_ \--the motions all felt off. She frowned, looking down the bed at her legs.

“You were--I don’t know why, but your legs were--I was trying to help.” Ash fumbled. “It was like you were changing? I don’t…I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” Vinny caught the tail end of his fumbling explanation. “No--uh--ok. Step one, figure out how to get up.” she bent her knee experimentally, more than a little unnerved at the shape and extra joint as her leg doubled up. She flexed her toes experimentally; they now matched the shape at the end of her fingers--claws, good and proper.

“Here, here, I can help.” Ash said immediately, sliding out of the chair.

Vinny held him off with a hand until she figured out how to swing her legs around to touch her toes to the floor. Ash held her hand, and wrapped an arm around her waist to help her balance as she stood up slowly. “Whoa-whoa-whoa ok _whoa_ \--oh this is like wearing the _weirdest_ pair of heels ever.”

“I’m sorry.” Ash repeated. “I just, I thought you were having cramps, and I was trying to help--”

“Huh? Oh--honey, honey.” Vinny shook her head, easing away from him to take a few experimental steps. “Little known Nos fact? Some of the changes are immediate,” she gestured to her face, “but others happen over time.” she gestured to her legs. “Kinda working on a theory that it…it goes along with how you are as a vampire.” Vinny shrugged, then resumed trying to work out how to walk. It wasn’t weakness that made the steps awkward, it was the damn _mechanics_ of it.

“I don’t follow.” Ash said slowly, watching her toddle on the new legs, toes leaving little furrows in the linoleum.

Vinny waved her hand. “Sort of a joke--my Prim--you know, Gary? He’s always at me about Nos not being _action_ _heroes_ , we’re the _spies_.” She huffed, just trying to get the feel for walking. “Because I’m always kinda head first into shit--which isn’t _entirely_ my fault, in my own defense.” Vinny added drily.

Ash smiled a little. “You do uh…you do wind up in places.”

Vinny snorted. “ _Yeah_ …anyway, go get dressed-- _fuck_ dressing is going to be a hassle right now.” she rubbed the space between her brows. “One thing at a time--you go get dressed, and I’ll figure something out.”

He nodded, turning towards the bathroom, then hesitating. “Wait, my clothes are…”

“Oh, they’re clean honey. That little white robot looking thing? Travel washer. Your stuff’s hanging up around the bathroom, they _should_ be dry.” she explained.

“That’s why you kept getting up before sunrise.” Ash said slowly. “That’s so _smart_.”

“Well, as a Nos, you get _real_ good at getting your clothes clean in weird ways.” She shrugged.

He frowned.

Vinny snorted. “Can you see me going to an all-night laundromat like this?” she gestured to her legs; the shorts she’d slept in were already sporty and short _before_ the shift and now the hem around the legs was straining around her thighs.

“That’s a really good point.” Ash admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t look--I mean--you’re not ugly.” he said. It wasn’t what he _meant_ to say, but he was afraid if he let loose the torrent of compliments that begged to come out, she wouldn’t believe him…or worse, she’d think he was being insincere, and be hurt.

Vinny blinked. “Well…thanks.” she didn’t know what else to say to that. She hadn’t even gotten a good look at herself yet…but if the traumatized Toreador wasn’t climbing the walls, screaming to get away, that was probably a good sign. “Go get dressed, honey.”

Ash nodded, going into the bathroom. He reached for his jeans first, picking them up from where they’d been draped over the plastic drawers under the towel bar. As the fabric roughed his fingers and crunched, and he saw the blood staining the waist, the panic--which had been buried by the Click--welled up fast and hard.

Vinny was still trying to figure out how to turn around without falling over when Ash came banging out of the bathroom, hand over his mouth. He tripped over his feet and landed mostly on the bed, legs still moving even as he scooted back into the wall. “Hey, _hey_ , hey!” Vinny clapped her hands to get his attention, making her way back to the bed with the help of anything close enough to be a handrail.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” Ash keened frantically, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t, I can’t, they’re still--I know you tried, but I can’t, I _can’t_!”

“Ok, ok honey--Ash, honey, sweetie, look at me. _Look at me_.” Vinny reached out and caught his face, pressing her palms to his cheeks. “Ok? Ok, look at me. You don’t have to. I’ll find you something to wear, you can keep the robe and the slippers. It’s ok. Those clothes don’t matter, they’re nothing, they don’t exist anymore, ok?”

Ash swallowed thickly, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths. He nodded, feeling just a touch of roughness scraping his cheeks from the thickened skin on her palms. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” Vinny repeated. “You just sit here, I’ll go dig you out some clothes. I think I’ve got some sweats in the bathroom, they’ll do you fine until we get you home.” she patted his cheeks lightly, then wobbled to the bathroom to look.

Ash sat up, folding the robe back over his lap, and waited for her to return. Whether she left the door open on purpose, it didn’t matter; he could watch her walk unsteadily to the plastic drawers, rummage through them, pull things out and mutter to herself before declining. He wasn’t alone.

It would figure another Nos change would happen that would make the previously careful closet curation moot. Once she got back down to the Warrens, she’d have to ask Serenity or maybe Gary about it, to find out when _if ever_ it freaking stopped. In the meantime, she rummaged and came up with something that would do enough of a job covering up Ash’s admittedly good goods and get him from the pawnshop to the cab to his place, at least in theory.

“Well, as long as you’re not too proud to wear bedazzled sweatpants, we’re in business.” Vinny announced, coming back to him with a pair of pink sweatpants over her arm. “ _And_ a t-shirt. Might be a little tight but we’re just keeping you from freezing outside.” she teased, holding up the ‘Bar Slut’ shirt Jeanette had had stuffed in her mailbox.

Ash tried to smile as he accepted the clothes. He watched her go towards the kitchenette and dig through the cabinets, muttering to herself the whole time. Obviously she didn’t have Kine around the place; there wasn’t any food to be had in the place. When she pulled her sleep shirt off, Ash ducked his head and turned his back to her immediately…as much as he _wanted_ to watch. He forced himself to focus on dressing himself. The t-shirt was tight across his shoulders, and having rhinestones on his ass wasn’t the best sensation, but they were clothes. Her clothes. And they smelled, like all her other clothes in this crappy little apartment; like tropical fabric softener.

“Did I leave myself a wig…” Vinny murmured. A couple of layers of long skirts and a tank top solved the immediate Masquerade violations, but it was a lot easier to cover up the ears with hair. There was a shiny pink Halloween wig buried in the back of the cabinet; it would have to do. Then it was just a matter of getting the cab, and a favor, and the Toreador on his way. Then she’d wander to Lacroix’s to get yelled at for not returning to his office promptly after laying siege with Circe and a handful of Camarilla loyals. She hoped the Malkavian hadn’t gotten too freaked out by the place; it had done a number on her own nerves, and she _didn’t_ have a mystical or supernatural chorus constantly in her ear.

***

Ash swallowed, the suitcase handle in his hand growing slick with sweat. There was a seat waiting for him on a plane to the north: an escape from Hollywood and Isaac and hunters and everything; the kind he’d thought would only be granted through a final death. But going meant leaving behind the person who’d made things _click_ for him; the most beautiful soul he’d ever met. “Come with me.” he pleaded through the window of the cab, leaning on the door to see her eyes in the shadows.

Vinny shook her head. “I can’t, honey. I’ve gotta get to work. Besides, I am _not_ prepared to try and shuffle through a hub on the sly.” she winked, although the state of her legs and feet were getting more and more distressing the longer she sat with them.

“I’ll help you--I can take care of you, you don’t _have_ to…if it’s money, you don’t _have_ to stay here.” Ash insisted.

“ _Ash_ , _go_.” Vinny began, firmly, “Go, and find yourself a little place of your own. Take up knitting, and the guitar, and woodworking. Take up soap carving or mathematically based composition. Make yourself _happy_ , find what makes getting up at night worth it.” she smiled. “And when you’re settled, and doing better, and you feel safe…come and visit. Or I’ll come up to you. In the meantime…” she held up her cell-phone. “I’m on the network.”

He nodded. The knock-off, puntastic vampire app was ridiculous, and he never used it. But Isaac hated it, which was the only reason Ash had even let VV sign him up for it in the first place. “I’ll…we really can stay in touch, can’t we?” Ash asked in a very small voice.

Vinny nodded. “Of course. We’re friends. Now _go_ , you’re gonna miss your flight and I already owe my friend for this.” She flashed him a thumbs up.

That wasn’t good enough for a goodbye. Ash opened the door of the cab again and leaned halfway in, reaching for her. He got an arm around her awkwardly, and kissed her cheek.

Vinny patted his back and did her best to hug him back, missing the longing look on his face when she kissed his cheek in return. “Have a good trip, and text me when you’re settled. Don’t forget to say hey to the local baron, do all that bullshit politicking so you’re in the clear.” she said gently.

Ash nodded, kissing her cheek again before pulling away reluctantly. He shut the cab door and picked up his suitcase again. The only thing that got him moving away from the drop-off zone and into the airport was the fact that she owed someone something _because of him_. So he would go to Canada, and find a little place to settle, and try to keep busy until she was ready to come and see him. And when she _did_ come and see him (he had to believe she would come, eventually), he’d tell her exactly how wonderful she was, and do everything he could to convince her to _stay_.


	13. Not the Final Night, but Close

Vinny stepped off the sky-tram, nerves on edge. The walk from Lacroix’s tower to the Last Round had been good practice with the new legs, but the idea of trying to scramble around Griffith Park had exactly _zero_ appeal. At least she’d managed not to kick Damsel in the shins when the Brujah tackled her just inside the door of the bar. “Ok Nines…where you at, man? Really need to talk to you! Definitely not here to try and kill you, the whole blood hunt thing is _bullshit_!” she called as she started to head towards the conservatory. It was the biggest and nearest building, and unless Nines was _really_ roughing it, he’d probably be in there. She was halfway up the path when the Brujah tackled her, knocking her to the ground; on reflex Vinny swung, catching him across the chest with her claws.

Nines grunted, batting at her hands. “Hey, _hey_ , keep your goddamn voice _down_!” he hissed. “The fuck are you doing up here, newbie?” He demanded as he got off her. “…and what the fuck happened to your legs?” Nines added, reaching out to help the Nos back to her feet. How she’d gone from a regular pair of stems to…well he didn’t know what he wanted to describe them as. Dog-like was too goddamn close to where they were right that second--but he bet she had a meaner kick now.

“Nos thing.” Vinny snapped. “The _fuck_ is wrong with you, tackling somebody in the middle of goddamn nowhere like that, that is how you lose parts or get staked!”

He flinched at the volume of her voice. “I _said_ keep your goddamn voice down--Jesus, newbie, don’t you know what’s going on?” Nines grabbed her arm to try and move faster towards the conservatory; there wouldn’t be room enough in the maintenance shed for _both_ them if she couldn’t get herself turned around in a tight space.

“No, actually.” Vinny replied frankly, stumbling a little. “The blood hunt’s--” she started to say, before he interrupted harshly.

“Forget the blood hunt right now, we’ve _got_ to get inside.” Nines hissed. “Griffith Park after dark is no joke, kid-- _that’s_ why I’m here, nobody should’ve been stupid enough to come for me.” he glared.

“This wasn’t _my_ idea, Skelter told me you were here--shit’s going _wild_ in LA and Lacroix--” she started to explain, but Nines put his hand over her mouth. She almost bit him for it.

“Shut it--you smell that?” Nines’ nostrils flared, eyes darting.

Vinny pulled his hand off her mouth. “I smell you need to _never_ do that again--wait. _Smoke_? _Fire!_ ” she pointed over his shoulder at the soft orange glow deep in the trees.

Nines let go of her wrist, dancing back a few steps. “You gotta run, kid, get to the tram and--” the end of his sentence was lost to a missile of fur and fangs.

“Nines!” Vinny screamed, stepping off the path towards the rocks, to see…well… _anything_! Then something hot and heavy and snarling slammed into her, and she saw stars as her head knocked against the ground. It was instinct that saved her, setting her claws on a frenzy of swipes in the split-second daze that had befallen her attacker. She felt something _squish_ on one claw and the thing yelped and rolled away from her, and Vinny dragged herself away and into a position she could manage to get up in, flicking her hands to try and get the jelly feeling off her fingers. The thing that had tackled her (and was now missing an eye) was a _massive_ werewolf--she now sorely regretted confusing Beckett for one, as the beast roared and readied to launch itself at her again. Beckett at least was kind of cute when he was furry, and a _much_ more manageable size. Also he still seemed ready to talk even in that state, and the thing with blood streaming down its face was _clearly_ not down for that. Vinny turned towards the sky-tram lobby and saw her ride sliding away. It would be another five minutes before it came back, as long as no one at the bottom turned it off. There was only one other thing to do, and she had no idea _how long_ she would be able to manage on her new legs.

As it turned out, the new legs were _damn_ useful. Once she stopped thinking about how _different_ they felt--actually, once she stopped thinking in general--and just moved…it was _amazing_. She would have to work on agility later; being able to grab at door frames and edges of walls and sling herself around was doing well enough for the moment. Digging into the concrete and the wood and the gravel with her claws, pushing off, just letting her joints _move_ …all of that kept Vinny just far enough ahead of the raging wolf to avoid actual death…although she was glad she didn’t have to try and keep it up past the five minute mark. The roar the beast loosed as she dove headfirst into the sky-tram actually made her ears ring, and that was surprisingly the most terrifying fact of all. A flesh-and-blood being should _not_ be able to hit the same decibels as a damn warehouse coming down!

Finding Jack waiting for her was a surprise, to say the least. “Jack? The hell are you--”

“We don’t go time, get in the car!” He interrupted with a bellow. “Sun’s due up, we gotta _move_!” he added.

Vinny clambered into the Chevelle, doing her best not to punch holes in the seat. “Nines is--”

“Unless he’s right behind you, we _can’t_ stay, kiddo.” Jack said gruffly, starting the engine and peeling out of the lot.

As they careened down the highway, Vinny twisted around to look through the back window. It was a lot like the night she’d taken the warehouse down--a lot of orange haze and black smoke against the night sky, her knees trembling, and absolutely _no idea what the fuck was even going on!_

Waking up in the Santa Monica apartment for the second night in a row was no treat, especially with Jack--who, quite frankly, she wasn’t sure she could _actually_ trust--right there. When he dropped the bomb of the blood hunt on _her,_ everything went cold. Well, cold _er_. “You’ve got to be _fucking_ kidding me!” she exclaimed.

Jack shook his shaggy head. “Lacroix’s spinning it all the way around, playing the hurt daddy and everything. You were like his own Child but you gone and went rogue, hooked up with the Sabbat and the Kuei-jin, murdered you a Primogen and Nines, the whole shebang.” he said gruffly.

“Are…are you _fucking_ serious?! Look at me Jack, _look at me_! How in fuck’s name am I supposed to do _any of that_ , I barely know what’s going on most of the time!” she yelled.

He held his hands up. “Hey, anybody with half a turd worth of brain power is gonna _know_ that, but it doesn’t matter. Them’s the politics, and he’s played the sanction card.” Jack scoffed. “Now you get why we don’t want those assholes around?”

If there had been _any_ hair left on her _anywhere_ , she would have pulled it all out in this second. As it was, she was struggling against the urge to start peeling skin off in frustration. “What do I _do_ now?!” Vinny demanded.

“I dunno kid, that’s up to you. But you need friends, and you need’em fast. Now I got you a ride arranged but you gotta get to it--every vampire loyal to the Camarilla is going to be gunning for you.” he warned. “Good luck, and make a good choice tonight, yeah?” With that, Jack was gone.

Vinny paced the tiny apartment, one claw between her teeth. It was probably a good thing she’d graduated to claws at this point, because there was an excellent chance she’d chew every nail she had down to the quick. “Ok. Ok, ok, ok. Ok. _Not_ ok, but fuck…need a plan. Need something _like_ a plan. Fuck!” she lashed out, destroying a cabinet door with ease. “…bad plan.” Vinny sighed, and rubbed her temples with her knuckles.

The apartment was mostly cleaned out, which was _bullshit_ since all the cute stuff was _hers_ , acquired by various means to make the place less of a pit, before she got her spot in the Warrens. She hoped whoever had done it hadn’t thought to look through the cabinets that hard; not needing to have food around really freed up space for clothes. “Step one, we get dressed. Step two, run a _goddamn gauntlet to get to the goddamn car_ , then…you know what, let’s get through one and two first, _then_ go from there.” She told herself, out loud. Because when she was stressed, or thinking, or alone, she talked to herself. And right now, herself was the only person who was willing to listen.

Vinny swore _if_ she _ever_ got back home to the Warrens, she was going to find Serenity the biggest, yellowest, stupidest thing ever; what had just been practice and help to get back at moldy oldie Isaac had just saved her life. It helped that there weren’t too many on Lacroix’s payroll--or technically the Cam’s payroll (she guessed)--that could do the invisible trick well enough to notice when others did it. And the ones with the extra sight apparently couldn’t keep up with a Nos on racing legs. Now she was lying on the backseat of the cab, trying to figure out what to do.

“Have you figured it out yet?” the cabbie asked quietly. He was, as more often than not, _absolutely_ disappointed with the majority of Cainites. “What you’ll do?” he clarified. His heart was full of sorrow for the one in the back of his cab; she had, in spite of the monstrous transformations, remained cheerfully _humane_. Warm and giving, and seemingly in absolute control of the darkness that dwelt inside them all; and now she would most likely not survive the night.

“No.” Vinny replied. “I just want to go _home_ \--” she started. “Keep driving--I mean just to keep us moving. I gotta--man I hope somebody picks up--I gotta call.” Vinny picked up the phone--a beat-up, cracked-screen leftover that had somehow managed to get buried in the cabinet. It was one of the first phones she’d gotten, back when her nails were just overlong instead of changed. She huffed, trying to steady her hands; if she broke this phone, she was well and truly out of luck. Waiting for the three clicks that came after the whole ‘this number’ message was agony, but she managed. When the line _seemingly_ went dead, she spoke. “Look, whoever’s on tonight--lemme talk to Gary. Just five minutes. This is bullshit, you _know_ it is--just--just lemme ask him one thing.” Vinny garbled, before hanging up.

“If you cannot reach anyone, you will have to make a decision yourself.” the cabbie cautioned. “We cannot circle the entire night, only to meet the dawn.”

“I know. I know. Just…a few more minutes. Then…fuck, I don’t _know_. But I’ll do something.” Vinny groaned. “This is such _bullshit!”_

“The nights are long, and many have chosen to fill them with this such behavior.” he pointed out. “What else is there to do?” he asked, confident enough in the young Nosferatu that there wouldn’t be some rambling justification for the betrayal. They were Cainites all, but betrayal was not an inevitable inheritance…it did _not_ have to be this way, he rather thought.

“You sound like Ash,” Vinny scoffed, “tell you what I told him: _literally anything else!_ Get a hobby, play some video games, write crappy books under a pseudonym--anything! Go fall in love, learn macrame, I don’t fucking know!” she said in frustration. “But this shit? _This shit is what gets you killed!_ Or I guess _me_ , in this instance.” she said bitterly.

“Is that what you mean to do with your nights? Provided there are more, after this one?” Now the cabbie was curious; could such a long life be sustained by harmless mundanity?

“Basically, yeah--I mean ok, I do cause some havoc now and then in my own name, I can’t pretend I’m an angel.” Vinny snorted. “But you know what _the best_ nights have been, so far?”

The cabbie flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror, searching out the vague shape of the Nosferatu in the passing light and shadow of the highway. “Hm?”

“The ones where I could just _be_. Pick up some furniture, sit in my room putting it together, hang out with Serenity and all of them? Going head-to-head with Mitnick when he’s not off with--I’m _pretty_ sure the redhead Malk, correct me if I’m wrong--playing with Ditzy and Mitzy and Daisy while Klein works on some grills. Shit like that, _those_ are literally the best nights I’ve had!”

He cocked his head, curious. “You find much solace in the others like you?”

“Yeah? It’s…I mean let’s face it, with a couple of exceptions around here, _nobody_ wants us around. We make them uncomfortable--especially friggin’ Isaac and VV?” Vinny scoffed. “But whatever, fuck’em. They _have_ to put up with Gary, because he’s important, and the rest of us are just gonna do our business good like we know how to.” she shrugged. “It’s a weird, chaotic little family, but…most of the time, I’m a hundred percent sure if I need them, I got them.”

“And this time?” the cabbie prodded.

“Only about…maybe seventy-five percent sure. And this isn’t on them, or even Gary--from what I’ve heard-tell, the reason he’s the Primogen at his age is because some shit went down and there was pretty much a massacre and he’s one of the last ones standing from it. He’s protective as shit, and I _admire_ that.” Vinny said firmly. “I really do. And…if he can’t get back to me, I’ll make myself understand--”

The phone in her hand rang.

Vinny nearly fell to the floorboard, startled. She tried not to crush it by answering it. “Hey--”

“You got five minutes, girly--don’t waste’em.” the voice on the other line growled.

“Thanks, Barabus.” Vinny said. She heard another click on the line.

“Aren’t you in just a real strawberry jam of a mess, boss?”

Vinny took a deep breath. Gary’s voice was the most tense she’d ever heard it, to include the questioning about Isaac’s store. “I didn’t do _anything_ Lacroix’s charging me with Gary.” she said immediately.

He snorted. “Well I know _that_ , I didn’t fall off the back of the truck yesterday.” Gary chided. “Now, what do you want?”

Vinny licked her lips. “I know I can’t come home right _now--”_

“That’s right.” Gary said firmly. He took an audible breath. “You figure this out, and keep your head, _then_ you can come home.”

She almost burst into tears at that; for as much trouble as she was in, and as much as she could use some _actual_ advice, the only thing she’d _really_ wanted to know was…was _could_ she come home again! “Ok. Ok, that’s…that’s all I wanted to ask.” Vinny rasped, throat choked by relief and grief. The chances of _actually_ making it back were slim to nil, but at least--at the absolute very least--if she died, it wasn’t completely, utterly _alone_.

“Where’s your loyalties, boss?” Gary prodded.

“The clan.” it was an easy, immediate answer.

“And after that?”

Vinny sat up a little. “The…Camarilla?”

“That’s right. You figure this out, boss, you end the night with your head still attached, you come home. That’s an order.” He hung up after that.

She sat quietly, rubbing her chin. Gary, like pretty much every other Nos, didn’t lead questions without a good reason.

“You seem…more sure now.” The cabbie said after a few silent miles.

“Can I run something by you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Strauss is a Cammie big-wig, right? In theory, if I can get a parley with him…it’d be a better idea than trying to go this all on my own, yeah?” Vinny asked.

“There are those who walk the solitary path…but it is long, and dangerous. You may find more support among the Anarchs.” he tempered.

“Maybe, maybe not. Right now, the clan swings with the Camarilla, and probably will unless something major happens.” she replied. “Can you get me to Strauss? Please, my man?”

The cabbie nodded slowly. His nights driving the Nosferatu were nearly done; he could see that in the pavement rolling under them. That saddened him, because so few of the Cainites treated him with as much regard; whether it was a marker of humanity or not, he did not bother to speculate (after all, kindness could be found all over the animal kingdom too), but he did relish it and wished it on those that walked the night. “And did you get the answer you sought?”

“Believe it or not, yeah.” Vinny cracked her knuckles, wincing. “Sorry, that’s loud, I know.” she shook her head. “We’ll just have to see how the night goes, but if I can get through it and live? I can go home.” she explained.

He nodded again. “I’m glad you found the answer you desired…and I shall hope for you, Vinny of the Warrens. I shall hope for you.”

Vinny snorted. “Thanks; I’ll take all the good vibes I can get.”

Gary handed the receiver back to Barabus. “Lock it down. Until this is sorted, no ins, no outs--but I want all our eyes, ears, and hands keeping tabs.” he said firmly.

The other Nos nodded. “You don’t…I mean…you really think she can get through this, yeah?” he asked hesitantly. The new girl was funny, and a little loud, but she’d settled in with the rest of them just fine. He didn’t want to lose another little sister without a good reason, and there was nothing about the lies behind the blood-hunt that made for a good reason.

“I think she’s turned into a real proper Nossie; otherwise I wouldn’t have said what I said.” Gary said, grim but evasive. “Remember, it’s lock-down.”

Barabus nodded, turning back to the cobbled-together comms station; Mitnick had the eyes, he and Jewels would be the ears. He hoped things would work out in the end. He really did.

Gary left the set up, stalking through the Warrens to get back to his room, so he could pace in private. Not being able to officially call _bullshit_ on this really rubbed him raw in all the wrong places; if Lacroix had left it at the kid being a little too cozy with the Kuei-jin and some Sabbat prick, that would’ve been believable enough to anybody who didn’t know what she’d had to put up with in Chinatown or around downtown. But trying to pin a Primogen’s ash pile _and_ the Anarchs’ precious poster boy? Too far, even for this town.

When the door to his room opened, Gary turned around, ready to bawl out whoever had decided to interrupt his passing. The words died in his mouth as she came into view. “Serenity--” he started.

The Nos shook her head, fixing him with a hard, glittering stare. Her eyes were wide and dark, alien-like in their solid color. She was worrying the collection of fingers still left at the ends of arms that had gone wing-like; fortunately she still had her thumbs to go with the first and second fingers, though they’d gone to claws. “I want her home. I want our girl _home_.” she hissed, lips drawn back from needle-like fangs.

“She has to figure it out herself.” Gary said levelly. He watched her shift anxiously from foot to foot, claws making holes in the carpet again. He opened his arms.

The usually _Unseen_ Nos went to him, butting her head under his chin and pressing her cheek to his chest. “I want our girl _home_.” she repeated.

Gary folded his arms around her carefully, and rested his cheek on her smooth scalp. “Have a little faith, Loves. Our girl’s a good Nossie, she’ll make it home.” he said. How much he believed it, he’d never be able to say. It was going to be a long, tense night…

It was a lot of dumb luck that had zero witchy vampires between the cab and the door of their hide out, which probably explained why one was standing on the damn stairs when Vinny made it inside. “Uh…parley?” she said slowly, hoping with all her might that that was a thing vampires went for. At least it was a sort of familiar face to her--that probably buy a couple of minutes. Not that she’d gotten to know the stiff, bespectacled librarian that well, on the rare nights their paths had crossed. Still, as long as her blood wasn’t exploding out of her _right that second_ , Vinny thought she might be able to swing her plan into action.

Celeste frowned. “ _What_ are you doing here?” she hissed. “Are you out of your mind?!” She demanded. There was no way the woman _didn’t_ know about the blood-hunt or the bounty on her name; and she was a _Nosferatu_ , so there was no good logical reason for her to seek help at the Chantry, unless…no. There wasn’t an _unless_ , because neither she nor Gary would take that kind of risk, not in Lacroix’s LA.

“Look, this whole thing is some _bullshit--_ ” Vinny started.

“Well of _course_ it is.” Celeste interrupted; she couldn’t help herself.

Vinny sighed. While the frigid, temperamental Tremere was absolutely correct, she was more than a little tired of being interrupted. “Look, I wanna talk to Strauss. This is bullshit, and it’s even bigger bullshit than you think. Lacroix’s setting me up for a fall, and I’m not taking it.”

Celeste pursed her lips, gripping the handrail hard enough to stress the wood. “Did Gary send you here?” she asked after a quiet moment. To to be _sure_ there wasn’t an _unless_.

Vinny shook her head. “No. No, I’m figuring this out on my own.” she said levelly. “The Nosferatu are on the Camarilla’s payroll, your boss is Camarilla and--most importantly-- _not Lacroix_.”

Celeste took a deep breath. “Hide yourself. I will walk you to the sitting room, but what happens after that is all on you.” she said, closing her eyes to steady herself. The Nos was already out of sight when she opened her eyes. Trusting that the Nos could follow, Celeste followed the simple path to the sitting room, where Strauss was warming himself by the fire. “Sir? Someone’s here to see you.” she started.

“Did I not make it _expressly_ clear that tonight is not a night for socializing?” Strauss snapped, turning away from the fireplace.

“This isn’t a social call.” Vinny replied, willing herself into view and stepping out from behind Celeste. She ignored the bug-eyed look of admonition the man-in-red laid on the librarian. “I’m asking to parley, and I think you want to hear what I’ve got to tell you.” she said.

Strauss narrowed his eyes. “Well…it seems it’s not just Lacroix’s house that is out of order.” He said coolly, fixing his wayward adoptive Childer with a hard stare. “Speak, madame. I’m curious as to what was worth risking your life--and you, you are dismissed.” He said, addressing Celeste at the end.

She was glad to get away from the conversation; blood hunts were ugly affairs, and she hadn’t found many in the legible books of the archive that covered what happened after a target showed up on the doorstep of a damn Chantry. Celeste retreated all the way back to her bedroom, to wait restlessly for the night to end. There would be hell to pay sooner rather than later, and no doubt she would be accused of insolence on high, but…something was changing for her, and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. All Celeste knew was that for a moment, accepting the parley had been the right thing to do.

There was no point to _not_ going in the front door, especially with Strauss’ stupid two-hour deadline. Between actual traffic and the fight with Ming-Xiao’s disturbing and tentacle-y form, Vinny was running on extra borrowed time; plus the Masquerade really didn’t matter with the whole ‘blood hunt’ hanging over her head. Chunk was at the desk as usual; she felt bad for what was about to happen.

He startled. “Toffee-bar! What are you ah, what are you doing here?” Chunk asked, recognizing his watch-bearing sweetie by the sparkly HOLLYWOOD baseball cap and not much else. She seemed to be hunched over, and surely there were heels on under the big pants--loud ones, from the way she was tip-tapping; beyond that he couldn’t really make out her face for the shadows. It didn’t seem like her most coordinated look, and his little toffee bar did tend to coordinate. “Mr. Lacroix, he ah, he says you’re not goin’ up. I’m sorry, toffee-bar, but ya gotta go.”

Vinny took a deep breath, padding to the desk. She took the hat off and pulled down the bandanna she’d tied around the bottom half of her face. It wasn’t a nice feeling, seeing Chunk startle and recoil back from her actual face. “Chunk? Sweetie? You need to leave.” she said in a low, cold voice.

“Toffee-bar, what happened to ya?!” he yelped. Poor gal was missing most of her nose, or one of those Hollywood doctors had taken way too much off the end. _That_ he could explain; but the big, point ears and the _teeth_ \--sweet baby Jesus, the _teeth_ that were in her mouth?!

Vinny leaned on the desk, claws sinking into the top easily. “You need. To _leave_.” she repeated. “Because the monsters are out tonight, Chunk. They’re _here_.”

He was frozen in the seat as all delusion slipped away and he realized that the clawed, fanged, cold-eyed creature leaning on his desk _wasn’t_ just a bad dream brought on by too many jalapeno poppers and Cool Whip. Chunk squeaked as the monster leaned way in, those wicked teeth not even an inch from his neck.

She could hear his heart hammering and smell the fear rolling down his neck and soaking into the collar of his uniform. There was a whisper at the back of her mind that she should just _bite_ him, get a good bellyful before trying to go up. But, as usual, Vinny ignored it. She’d helped herself to the stash of henches around the Golden Temple; she was _fine_. Vinny licked her lips. “ _Run_.” she hissed in his ear.

Chunk fell out of his seat trying to get away. He scrambled on hands and knees to the door, hesitating with his hands on the glass. He looked back, and the _thing_ that had damn near crawled in his lap hissed at him over her shoulder. That was enough; Chunk ran blubbering into the night.

Vinny sighed. It didn’t feel _great_ sending somebody that harmless fleeing in terror…but if things were going to get ugly, she’d feel a lot better cutting loose with at least one guaranteed save on the books. She punched the button to unlock Lacroix’s elevator; it was time for one last meeting.

She should’ve counted on it not being as easy as go up, take the direct lift, then head right into Lacroix’s stupid office. Frustrated but determined (and invisible!), Vinny cut a zig-zag path through the building, refusing to be herded into the very obvious deadly scenario at the heart of the construction zone. The service elevator would be her next best way up that didn’t involve _actually_ scaling the building; she just had to get to it in one semi-living piece.

When she reached the landing of the elevator though, there was company…probably the worst company (short of the Sheriff) to run into in this instance. Vinny froze as the redhead Malkavian stepped into view, a walkie-talkie in her hand. Serenity had cautioned her that others who had the talent would be more aware of her, and that Malkavians could crank the awareness up to eleven with something called _auspex_. The surety of her cover was blown as she was _positive_ the Malkavian was making direct and deliberate eye contact with her.

Circe held the lift ready with an arm across the door, interfering with its sensors. “I see nothing, I hear nothing, I know nothing.” she said slowly and deliberately.

Vinny frowned as the radio crackled to life and someone made a snide remark to the tune of ‘that’s no surprise’.

“Insulting me will not make your Childer fuck you, Frank.” Circe snapped. “To someone with more gravitas than gravy? I will ascend, to see if naughty Nossies have somehow slipped past the slackers.”

The Malkavian’s eyes kept cutting towards the elevator. Vinny took a hesitant step forward, then another. So far, the redhead wasn’t raising any alarms. Was…was she on Vinny’s side? At least as much as someone _could_ be on her side, in this situation? Vinny wasn’t sure, so when she got on the elevator, she pressed as far back into the back corner as she could manage, to buy a few inches reach from the Malk’s nails and potential reflex.

Circe hummed as the doors closed, bobbing her head to her own tune. When the doors opened again, she stepped out and reached back in, hitting the key sequence to send it all the way up. “Fear not the lifting lift, for I have sent it back to the head of Olympus to prevent unwanted guests.” she said into the walkie-talkie as the doors closed.

Vinny was, without a doubt, taken aback. They’d been friendly in passing, sure, but she hadn’t thought to the degree that the redhead would take _this_ kind of risk. And she was very sure that the redhead had taken the risk _deliberately;_ though for what reason, Vinny couldn’t even _begin_ to guess. She was grateful though, incredibly grateful.

There was a landing before the main hall to Lacroix’s office, where the workmen usually had to wait to load things in so no one getting off the main access would _see_ them. It was empty, but Vinny knew that wouldn’t be the case for the main access. She dreaded going through the doors, because she had a _very_ good idea who was the last line of defense, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be nearly as helpful as the librarian or the redhead. So Vinny pulled the key out of her tattered sweatpants pocket, gripping it tight. Then she stood to the side of the door and pushed it open. “I’ve got the key!” she called. The familiar grunt in reply confirmed her dread.

The Sheriff had had a feeling the Nosferatu would make it at least this far. She was respectably wily, and he had a good suspicion that in spite of the politics, there would be those that would be willing to ally themselves with her; temporarily or otherwise. He wasn’t one of those, even though he had not launched an immediate attack at the sound of her voice. The Nosferatu, while bubbly, wasn’t a hopeless or addled fool. If she had managed to come up this far, she must have had a good reason or a good play to make…and he was damned curious about what that might be; although he did doubt she _actually_ had the key. That was supposed to be in the Kuei-jin’s keeping.

“I’ll hand it over! But I don’t want to fight!” Vinny added. She didn’t see ghostly animals popping out of the floor, or feel any deadly pressure on her body. It was a risk, stepping into visibility in the doorway, but she had to. She kept the key aloft. “I _don’t_ want to fight you.” she repeated. The Sheriff stood, huge and ominous as ever, in front of Lacroix’s doors. The sword was in his hand, and he was eyeing her hard.

 _Well_ , that was certainly a surprise. Perhaps he _should_ terminate the Nosferatu, if she had managed this much. The Sheriff waited though, to hear what propositions she might make…although if she offered a mundane sort of ‘join me and we’ll rule together’ idea, he was going to cut her down fast and enjoy it.

“I don’t want to fight you. I’m not stupid enough to think I’d win, and I actually just don’t want to fight you.” Vinny said. “I’ve got his key--and you can probably kill me fast, but I guarantee you I’ll break this before you can grab it.” She took a deep breath as the Sheriff sneered.

It sounded like a challenge, and he was _very_ tempted to rise to it. That the fledgling even entertained an idea of beating his speed and skill, at their respective ages? If it wasn’t such a tense situation, he might laugh out loud.

Vinny squeezed the key lightly. “It’s pretty delicate. The second it takes you to kill me, that’s the second my thumb goes right through this thing and it’s ruined.” she babbled. Honestly, she didn’t know how the thing was built (if she had, she’d know the twisting mechanism had been damaged ages earlier, and made worse by her grip that night), but there hadn’t been a material yet she couldn’t manage to damage with her claws. “I’ll hand it over. But I want an answer. That’s _all_ I want. You can even kill me after, but I want an answer _why_.”

Obviously, she’d been paying attention on her very first night, when he’d shown her a taste of his talent during the Sabbat annoyance. That was good; awareness was good. The Sheriff still thought he would be able to take the key back from her ashes, but the simplicity of her request was admirable. No power, no tit-for-tat, just an explanation; he could respect that. He took a deep breath…and pulled about his phone to text Sebastian. ****The girl is here with the key. She wishes to speak with you****

While the Sheriff was distracted by the ringing phone and subsequent screaming on the line, Vinny darted forward. The new legs were great at carrying her swift and silent, and as risky as it should’ve been to startle the Sheriff, it was kind of nice to catch a surprised look on his face when she pulled the phone from him. “ _Sebastian_ , baby. We need to talk.” she cooed, keeping an eye on the Sheriff.

 _That_ startled him, a sensation the Sheriff had nearly forgotten could be a thing. The Nosferatu was _clearly_ getting a grip on her abilities and her state of being. He debated taking the phone back, but the sheer audacity of her move was enough to stay him for the time being.

Lacroix’s sneer was audible over the line. “You wretched, misbegotten little wretch!” he swore. “You’re not owed a _damned_ thing.”

“Oh but see, _I am_.” Vinny replied, stepping back from the Sheriff; not far enough to get out of arm’s reach, since quite honestly that would mean going halfway up the hall, but it was enough to be out of his immediate presence. “I have your key. I’ll break the damn thing if you push it; but you be a good boy, and tell me _why the fuck you set me up like this_ , Sebastian, and you can have it. Intact, even.”

“Give me my key!” he fairly shrieked.

“I will, when you talk to me like a _big boy_.” Vinny sniped. “See you in a few seconds, Sebastian.” She _meant_ to hang up the phone, but her flaring temper resulted in it being reduced to so much garbage in her fist. “…fuck. Ok, I did _not_ mean to do that.” she said, looking up at the Sheriff sheepishly.

He frowned, brow making an almost perfectly straight line across his face; that happened enough in his own hands, he didn’t need someone else breaking his phone for him!

“I’m sorry.” Vinny winced. “I survive this, I’ll getcha new one. One of the bigger ones, with a better camera.” She sighed as his stony expression only deepened. “Yeah, I know, fat chance of that. I’m still sorry.”

The Sheriff shook his head, stepping to the side and gesturing sharply at the doors that led to Sebastian’s office.

Vinny sighed. “Yeah, I know. Still sorry.” she repeated, walking forward even though every fiber of self preservation she had _screamed_ at letting the massive unit of an enforcer stand anywhere behind her. There wasn’t really any other option, because she was _absolutely positive_ she couldn’t take him in a fight, and he at least might let her get something like an answer out of Lacroix before he took her head off.

Lacroix sneered as the monstrous little whelp padded into _his_ office, carrying _his_ key. “I don’t know what you hope to accomplish, but he is _my_ man; there’s nothing you can offer in your last few miserable, wretched moments, that could sway him from my side.” he declared.

Vinny rolled her eyes. “Pro-tip, gloat _after_ I’m dead, because if I survive the night, you’re gonna look real dumb there, Sebastian.” she replied. “You want this? You want this _fucking_ stupid little thing for your fucking _stupid_ little box?” she held the key up. “You tell me _why_.”

He couldn’t suppress the giggle at seeing that the Kuei-jin had been hoisted by her own petard; there was, after all, no way a mealy-mouthed little mistake like the Nosferatu would have outclassed her in a fight. “Why? _Why_? Your last few words on this earth, and you’re asking me _why_?” Lacroix giggled again.

The giggling was more than a little unnerving, Vinny decided. She could feel the Sheriff shifting behind her; there wasn’t a lot of time left in her night. She tightened her grip on the key slowly, feeling something give away at the base of her thumb. At least when she was dead, he _still_ didn’t get his stupid box open.

“Because you don’t _matter_ , you absolute waste of vitae!” Lacroix crowed. “You don’t matter one little whit! No one will defend you, no one will _care_ when you’re gone, except for the janitor who will be scooping your ashes into the bin to join the rest of the garbage--now _give me my key!”_ He commanded, throwing his will into the command. It didn’t matter if her brain broke from it.

The Sheriff steadied his grip on the handle of his sword, watching the Nos tremble and start to hold the key out to Sebastian. He would make this quick, and less painful than he’d made it for her Sire. She deserved at least that.

The doors to the office swung in before Lacroix’s fingers even brushed the key in Vinny’s hand. Strauss stood there, smiling smugly. The surviving Primogen--including Gary--and the wayward Barons stood with him.

“Sheriff? Stand down.” the Tremere said calmly. “It is finished.”

Lacroix’s eyes went wide and buggy. “No-- _no_ \--it is _not_ finished!” he yelled.

Vinny staggered, feeling a sheen of sweat from head to toe. Her thumb sank a little further into the key; it was sufficiently ruined at this point. “Wh-what?” Her head was throbbing, and her arms felt like lead. That must’ve been that Ventrue trick; whatever it was, it was a _hell_ of a skill, and she never wanted to feel it again!

“Your two hours are up, Vinny.” Strauss replied, coming to stand beside her. He pulled the key out of her hand, missing the dent and the way it rattled. “And you have performed admirably.” he explained slowly to her dazed expression.

For a brief second, the Sheriff debated cutting the room down. It would only be a temporary fix, and Sebastian would have to explain a pile of dead Primogen and at least one Elder. The smarter option _was_ , in fact, to stand down. He sheathed his sword, and went to stand beside Sebastian. He was, after all, the Prince’s Sheriff.

Lacroix dropped to his knees, more mad giggles slipping out. “You _don’t_ understand, there is no other way! We are under _attack_ , you fools! Don’t you understand?!” he babbled.

Strauss snorted. “Consider the blood hunt lifted, madame. You may return to the night.” he said dismissively. “As for this?” he held up the key for Lacroix to stare at longingly. “And that?” he gestured at the sarcophagus. “ _We_ will be securing them for the time being.”

Vinny swallowed, taking a couple of staggering steps backward. She honestly had not counted on surviving, let alone being saved by a Strauss-led reprieve at the literal last second. She jumped as a hand came down on her shoulder.

“Go home, boss. Everybody’s waiting to see you.” Gary whispered to her. “I’ll fill you in on the rest of this, later.” he added.

Vinny nodded dumbly, turning away from him and the scene. The redhead was waiting for her by the service elevator, smiling.

“Unlike Icarus, your wax-and-feather wings remain unmelted.” She said cheerfully.

Vinny stared at her, waiting until they were both on the lift and the doors were closed. “Why? Why’d you do it?”

“I wear my Chanel with secret combat boots.” Circe said pleasantly. “Though in truth it is not the desire for anarchy so much as certainty that such a one as you is needed in the night.” she explained.

Vinny was too tired and still reeling from the mindfuckery to really follow the train of thought. “I uh…I owe you.” she managed to get out.

“Only our continued friendship.” Circe replied. “I am kindest to those who are kind to me.”

 _That_ actually sort of made sense. “What do you think’ll happen now?” Vinny asked.

The Malkavian shrugged. “It does not grade my pay to know, and in truth I care not. Such a quiet end to an explosive episode is best though, I think”

“You are not wrong about that.” Vinny snorted. “Wait, the security guard--you know, our guy.” she joked.

“Disturbed enough to decline chili dogs.” Circe said as the elevator shuddered to a stop and the doors open. “No worries, she of the toffee-moniker; no Masquerade violation to be found, after a little neurological convincing.” she tapped her temple. “Go home in peace, a phoenix’s bride for another night.”

“Uh… _yeah_.” Vinny replied; of course she would go back to _not_ making a lot of sense after making just a little bit of sense. “Good night hon, I’ll uh…I guess I’ll be seeing you around still.”

Circe beamed wide. “Good night, good Nossie. A flight of mousies guide thee to thy rest.” she said cheerfully.

Vinny snorted, giving the Malkavian a tired wave and finding her way to the service door. From there, to the alley and its welcome manhole, and then only a stroll and a half back to the Warrens. There was still a little time before sunrise; but for the next month at least, Vinny decided she was on strike. If it wasn’t something to do for her own needs, or the needs of her friends, it just wasn’t going to be important enough to deal with, at least for that long.

The Warrens were quiet when she arrived; the place was probably still on lockdown, but no one had tried to keep her from getting in, so that was a good sign. Vinny made her way to _her_ room, nearly weeping at the warm familiarity of it. First thing’s first; she was going to get out of what was left of her clothes, scrub down with some baby wipes, lotion the hell up, and then pass out in her beautiful bed made by a beautiful ghoul.

Vinny was halfway through the wipe down when the door to her room cracked open. “Auntie?” she called.

“Welcome home, dear.” came the soft reply. “ _Oh_ \--I’m sorry. I didn’t think to knock.”

Vinny shrugged. “Hey, what was it you told me before? Nothing you ain’t seen in a mirror before?”

Serenity chuckled. “Something like that, yes…you’ve changed, dear.” she said sympathetically.

“ _Yeah_ …dressing uh…it’s been interesting, the past few nights.” Vinny snorted. “Does uh…does it keep going, Auntie? I mean…am I gonna _keep_ changing like this?”

The very obvious fear in the younger Nos’ voice hit the _Unseen_ Nos hard. She remembered wondering that, asking that, scrutinizing every little thing before she gave up on seeing. “Well dear…not as much, anymore. Things will move, improve, as you use them. But I don’t think you’ll sprout wings, or a tail.” she said.

“...I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” Vinny said slowly.

“I’m not.” Serenity replied flatly.

Vinny ran a baby wipe over her face one last time. “Well…thanks Auntie.” she sighed. “It’s really good to be home.” she said thickly.

Serenity moved closer, and laid a finger on the younger Nos’ shoulder. “We’re all _very_ glad you’re here. And we’ll celebrate, after you’ve rested…we’re all very eager to know what’s happened.”

Vinny smiled a little at the light touch. “It’s a helluva a story, Auntie. You just wait.”

The _Unseen_ Nos chuckled again. “Rest well, my little thief. And _welcome home_.” she whispered before pulling away. She slipped out of the room, tapping those who had come creeping to drop eaves at the door, to shoo them away. They would _all_ find out what happened at the same time, and the poor girl deserved some peace and quiet!

Vinny pulled on a night shirt and crawled into bed, hugging Pikachonk for dear life. She was _home_ , and no power-grabbing halfwit was going to threaten that for her _ever again_ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never fear, it's not QUITE the end. There's still a post-survival pool party to get to, and maybe another fun post-credit scene!


	14. A Beach Party for the Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love a cheesy little epilogue?

A couple of weeks after the almost-final-night, Vinny was getting ready for a party. “I’m still not _entirely_ sure about this.” She said frankly as she tied the sarong around her hips. “Like I’ve been there. It’s haunted as _fuck_ , and at least one of the ghosts is a real fuckin’ douche-bag.” Vinny checked her reflection in the recently-acquired mirror (a gift from Gary, surprisingly enough) to make sure everything was in the right place; dressing for her new legs was still a matter of trial-and-error.

“It’ll be _fine_.” Klein insisted. “We’re not there for the spook box, we’re using the beach. Even got the a-ok from Miss Baron herself.” He nodded, fairly vibrating with excitement. The extra energy made the neon palm fronds on his shirt dance in the soft glow of the fairy lights. “And it’s _tradition_! I mean not _there_ specifically, but you know, celebrating you making it! Probably would’ve happened earlier since you weren’t a Cleo, but then all the uh…box stuff.” Klein trailed off.

Vinny snorted. “Box and then some, yeah. So the timing isn’t about when you get bit, it’s when you’re…done changing? I mean like the big changes?”

The Nos with the gleaming grin shrugged. “Sometimes. Other times it’s when you’re…you know, settled about being one of us. Mitnick’s happened real quick, like he got the first server up and was like ‘heck yeah, this is the life’ inside of like six months after Gary got him. That was a fun time--we snuck into a rave at the rail yard before they got the new security systems, it was _wild_.” Klein explained. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a beachy-beach party.” he added.

“Kind of surprised we’re not going down to the pools.” Vinny picked up a straw tote packed with towels.

Klein’s grin went wide, showing a new gem set into a tooth past the grill. “ _That_ is because _everybody_ is coming! Knox and Gemma, _and_ \--” he giggled, “--Mitnick’s girlfriend!”

“You’re _kidding!_ ” Vinny shouldered the tote and gestured for Klein to lead the way. “I may not know much, but I know that’s _kinda_ big.” she joked.

“You’re not kidding.” Klein replied firmly. “But I guess even though she’s almost proper Anarch now, what she did for you really sealed the deal with Gary. Makes sorta for an actual alliance kinda deal, even though I’m pretty sure she’s not really political.”

“I didn’t think the Anarchs were that political.” Vinny said, thighs straining. Klein was strolling at a good clip, but she was having to watch her stride to keep from pulling ahead of him; it was so much easier now to cover a lot of ground.

He snorted. “Some of them aren’t, but some of them are pretty much on par with the Camarilla. I try not to think too hard about it, makes my head hurt.”

“ _Yeah_.” Vinny replied drily. “At least I’m out of a job now, with Lacroix on the outs. Never thought I’d be that happy to be unemployed.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it. There’s always work for us, and we do make it a point to get paid and repaid.” Klein assured her, as he took them out to the Ocean House.

The building was as decrepit and ominous as ever, looming over the still-abandoned work site like a rotting tooth. Vinny was glad to give it a wide berth as Klein led the way down the access to the beach, where a small bonfire and several others were waiting. There were more divots and towels on the sand than visible; no wonder the Warrens had been practically empty when they walked through! After Gary’s spiel and the resultant cheers, the Nosferatu Primogen pulled her away from the light and general cheery noise for a semi-private chat.

“No hard feelings, boss?” He asked.

Vinny shook her head. “No. I mean I knew it was a risk calling but I just…well I needed to know what I wanted to know.” she sighed. “So…what _does_ happen now?” she asked.

Gary smirked. “A little outside of your role, dear…but you deserve the answer.” He threw an arm around her shoulder and started walking her towards the access path. “Cam’s sending some big-wigs down to hold a little trial; it’ll probably go about as well as the last one _you_ went to.”

Vinny snorted. “You know, I’d feel a little bad for him if he hadn’t tried so damn hard to murder me.”

“Well aren’t you just a saint?” Gary teased. “Anyway, after that, they’ll shuffle somebody _else_ here and the cycle’ll probably start all over with somebody else; but you’re alright.”

The sound of an engine backfiring startled any response out of Vinny’s head; she tensed under Gary’s arm. Truth-be-told, her nerves were still pretty frayed from the near-final-death experience.

Gary felt the younger Nos’ tension; she probably had a hit like a dump truck at this point. “Relax. Can’t exactly find a fat calf around here, but wouldn’t be a party without a nosh.” he patted her back as a battered food truck pulled around the side of the hotel, followed by a slightly-less beat-up pickup.

Vinny took a deep breath as the passenger door of the food truck opened, and a green haired woman in a yellow polka-dot bikini leaped out. She beamed, and threw her arms up. “Though rubber-necked tragedy did delay, we are arrived with goods in tow!” The Malkavian declared.

Vinny gave a little sigh of relief as Gary chuckled.

Circe approached the pair, hugging first Vinny and then Gary (even recieving a kiss on the cheek from the later, in a show of affection that surprised Vinny). “But first, a warning: _nothing_ but praise, or else the battle for party-appropriate wear was fought for nothing, and _that_ is bad.” she said firmly, poking Gary in the middle of one hula girl.

He held his hands up. “Yes _ma’am_.”

Vinny raised an eyebrow, but the curiosity was short-lived; ended by a tall, lanky figure coming around the front of the food truck. It was the Tremere, in a sporty one-piece suit and shorts. Gary gave a quiet, pleased rumble; _that_ was a surprise. He’d done a much better job keeping his personal life private than Mitnick had…either that or Mitnick hadn’t _actually_ wanted to hide it. She didn’t know what to guess, but held her tongue to see what would follow.

Celeste went around the truck, setting the exterior up for service. A couple of Ghouls would be in charge of the actual distribution of warmed blood packs, but it took no effort to pull down the service counter and raise the awning. Then she moved away from the truck and towards Gary, step faltering awkwardly as she noticed the incredibly fortunate fledgling.

“Hey…” Vinny said slowly. “Uh…thanks. For the other night.” she said, opting for diplomacy. The Tremere _had_ done her a solid by not absolutely obliterating her in the doorway of the witchy hideout, after all.

“You’re ah…you’re welcome.” Celeste replied after discreetly clearing her throat. “I’m glad things went your way.” she added.

Vinny snorted. “No shit, because there was a stretch there I _really_ didn’t think it was going to.” she shook her head.

Gary held his hand out to the Tremere, waiting steadily until she put her hand in his and let him pull her closer across the sandy path. “Help yourself to the first round, boss.” He said to Vinny. “You more than earned it.” he winked, then pulled the librarian away towards the shadows.

Vinny shook her head a little, smiling. _That_ was probably why she’d asked ‘did Gary send you’ that night; the girl was obviously working through some things, and Vinny didn’t even want to _begin_ trying to guess at what they might be. She only hoped that like Mitnick and Rainbow and Jeanette and Honey-lips, they were content, or at the very least, having a _very_ good time.

Taking the first warm bag on offer and letting Knox wrap an arm around her shoulders to head back towards the beach, Vinny sighed. The nights were weird and probably would only get weirder still the longer she was at it, but there was a lot to be said for the little moments like this. As Knox started the first bars of ‘Wonderwall’ (because _of course he would_ ), and a beach ball started sailing back and forth overhead, she settled into her seat on the sand and sipped. Whatever tomorrow night held, it would be easier to deal with with the Warrens at her back and Lacroix out of her hair…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this far! Vinny really took on a life of her own, I swear...I hope you enjoyed, and never fear: there's more Nossie adventures in the works, because I cannot help myself :D


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